Beneath the Surface
by CherryBlossomWish
Summary: AU. Bughead. Everyone's gone for the holidays, leaving Jughead and Betty alone. Whilst Jughead barely knows her, Archie forces him to take care of her for the two weeks he and the gang are out of town. For good reason: with Polly having breakdowns, Betty is alone and isolated... What started as a simple job of babysitting, though, leaves Jughead intwined in Betty's life.
1. Archie Leave's Town

Words like violence  
Break the silence  
Come crashing in  
Into my little world  
Painful to me  
Pierce right through me  
Can't you understand  
Oh my little girl  
\- Depeche Mode

* * *

 **Chapter One: Archie leaves town.**

There aren't many women in Jughead's life that mattered very much, as well as men. It sounded pretty lonesome to admit that, but, admittedly, Jughead was a loner. He valued the relationships he had with the very few men and women in his life and he'd leave it at that. There was no need to excel the limit he'd created for himself, it was too much trouble, too much fakery and definitely too much maintenance.

And yet, when thinking about how many was too much and how few were too little, Jughead was stumped. There were definitely the compulsory relationships: Jellybean, his dad, his mom, Archie and Fred- but those were the ones he could really label as 'important' in his life. There were, of course, the odd bits and pieces where he wasn't sure if they were 'friends' or just people he sat next to with Archie: Kevin, Betty and Veronica. The three were nice and obviously a constant feature of Jughead's high school life, but they had yet to cement themselves in such a memorable way.

It sounded cruel, but it was the truth. Of everyone in high school, of course he enjoyed them and Archie. But Archie had been there since... The very beginning. All of them came after, their friendship linked and circulating around Betty or Archie, but never Jughead. And he was fine with that. He knew that at school, they would all circulate together, Jughead that awkward, sardonic teen who just read or wrote or sarcastically commented on something Archie said- but afterwards, when they went to Pop's, they went to Pop's for Archie or for Betty, the OG's of the 'sad breakfast club'.

...He was fine with this reality. That Archie was his best friend, that his family meant a lot (even if it was falling apart), that he didn't need or want another friend.

"...Jug." Came a whisper. It was Archie. The seventeen year old was still like a child: unable to sleep the moment something troublesome entered his mind. Granted, he never suffered over anything worthy of crying over: maybe woman issues or bad grades or something. Yet, an issue was an issue to Archie, when his mind transfixed on something he could never shake it off. Even for the sake of sleep.

"It's... One in the morning." Jughead whispered lowly, rolling to his side. The room was slightly lit by the silver hue of the moon, spilling in the room. The room was squished with two mattresses shoved on the floor together, bags of chips and console controllers littering the ground, and two teenage boys facing each other. Quite obviously, the peeping moon highlighted the concern that crossed the red head's face. His eyes were filled with an itching frustration as they stared into Jug's bleary ones. How could he ignore his friend like that? "...What is it?" Yawning, he sat up slightly, scratching his head. "What's keeping Archie up tonight?"

"Dude..." Archie sighed, mimicking his actions and sitting up, "I... Don't know what to do."

"Second thoughts about new York?" Jughead mumbled.

"God no!" Archie scoffed, but moaned, "But it's kind of on that." The red head was going to New York in less than seven hours with the one and only Veronica Lodge for the winter holidays. What a lucky duck, Jughead thought bitterly. He was stuck in the cold, 'perfect' town of Riverdale for the three weeks of holidays while Veronica and Archie got the perfect lover's retreat.

"Well?"

"It's... Betty."

"What? Is her love for you too much?" Jughead knew that comment would draw some anger and resentment, but he thought it was worth it. Betty Cooper was ... the most beautiful, perfect girl-next-door who was obviously in love with Archie Andrews. Head over heels with him. ...And while Jughead didn't _love_ her, he definitely thought Archie _was_ lucky. She was all A's, on the cheer squad, chief editor of the Blue and Gold and just naturally kind. She was perfect. Too perfect. The kind of perfect that made you feel inadequate.

But Jughead could definitely appreciate that she was ... gorgeous.

They were too close for Jughead to miss the pissed off look he received, "God, Jughead, she's over me- literally, she's... Not in to me anymore."

"Then what's the issue?"

"Look... I love her, we'll always be the best of friends and... I'll always be there for her... And, gosh, if I had to choose between her and Veronica, I wouldn't know what to do-"

"Is Veronica jealous?"

"I know coffee makes you an impatient ass, but shut up." Archie grumbled, "Fuck. It's Polly." Betty's sister? "You ... May have noticed Betty missed school just before break?"

"Wasn't she sick?"

"No, Betty isn't. But Polly is."

"Flu? Pneumonia? Influenza?"

Archie waited til Jughead was over with his sardonic joke before continuing. "No. Polly had a breakdown. A big one. After Jason left for boarding school, Polly – and dude, if you tell anyone I'll castrate you- tried to…" Archie trailed off, before taking in a deep breath, " _end it_. You know what I mean? And… Betty's been taking it real hard."

"Then what's the issue?" Jughead furrowed his brows, "surely this is just another job for the infamous Archie and Betty friendship?" To be honest, Jughead had been slightly busy in the past few weeks, mostly with his own shitty life hitting him. So this was all kind of a shock to hear. He knew Betty had missed a few days here and there in the past three weeks, and that she seemed … extremely down. But this? It kind of was a shock.

The perfect Cooper daughters obviously had their own issues. It were as if the infamous 'Stepford' women were actually... not as pristine as once thought.

"Look, if I wasn't going away for two weeks, it'd be great. Super fine. I'd be there, Veronica would, we'd all be fine." Juggy nodded, "…But you know I'm going away to New York with V."

"Ah yes. Archie strikes again-"

"Dude, cut it out. You know this trip had been planned for months. It's cost an entire semester's worth of wages, and…" He sighed, "Can't I be selfish for once?"

"It'll break her heart. She'll have no one." Juggy taunted, meaning it in the best of intentions of course. But it was pretty obvious: when it came to Betty, Archie was obviously taking a stance.

"She'll have you. She's going to need you."

"And what about Kevin?"

Archie was silent for just a bit. "…It's the winter holidays we're talking about. Kevin's going to Ohio with his dad. Some family holiday thing."

"And so that leaves me… And Betty." Fuck. Yes, Betty was lovely. She'd asked him several times to write for the Blue and Gold, she'd always offer a helping hand or be a lab partner during science, but never… Never too close. It was a friendship held back by warning-sirens. Jughead knew who HE was, he also knew who SHE was. "And you want me to just… Hang with her?"

"Just until I'm back. She's going to be lonely and sad and hurt and … I don't want her holed up in her room, I don't want to see her break down-"

"Relax, Archie." Jughead grunted, biting his lip. What could it do to hang with the Stepford daughter of the Cooper's? She probably wouldn't want to talk to him, all she might do is write beside him in Pop's? It could be easy. But Jughead did owe Archie a lot of favours: seeing that, a) Archie was basically letting Jughead stay in his house indefinitely until Jug's dad cleaned his act up, and b) had defended him from the high school thugs. "I'll do it."

"And… She knows I'm going. But I feel bad. Really, really bad. And so does Veronica. So… Please… Don't let her be mad at me."

"She's her own woman."

"Of course- but-"

"I won't fan the flames. But I'll communicate it with her."

"Thanks."

* * *

New York- Wow. A gorgeous place to be, Jughead had heard, as well as tragic and ugly. He knew of the infamous songs, and whenever he imagined it, all he could think of were the screaming trumpets, capitalism, broad shouldered suits and musicals crashing together- an illuminated, dark beacon of dreams. For a place that imitated despair and hope, Jughead wanted to go there. He wanted to go to university and wonder through the endless streets. And Archie and Veronica were going there: a passionate, two weeks.

He was jealous. Archie, stay. Stay here in the snow, stay here and freeze beside me, stay here and let's have milkshakes and burgers and hot dogs and chips and let's just complain- complain about Riverdale- complain about the high school- just... don't go. Don't _leave **me.**_

This diatribe within Jug tugged at his heart as he waved goodbye to the black taxi taking both Archie and Veronica to the airport, staring not at the car but at the tracks left behind in the thin layer of white frost on the ground. Of course, while sad, he was happy. This was life: the growing up, the wistful thoughts of the past and the fear of the future- experiencing the lust, mess and heat of the present. Yet he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that he felt... Alone.

He stood there until the car had disappeared into the fog, sighing, standing, accepting that there was nothing he could do- there was no use crying about it. His fingers felt numb in the cold, he tucked them into his jeans, eyes gazing into the general scenery. There was no sign of the sun; the clouds had clotted above them, the fog hugging everyone and everything in it's path, an the ground was white and frosty. It might snow later, he thought.

"You coming in, Jug?" Archie's dad smiled slightly, not in the least bit awkward. Jughead jumped slightly, twisting to see a sheepish smile from the man before smiling back. After all the drama of firing Jug's dad and even driving their family into a state of disrepair… Jughead knew that he didn't mean for it to happen. And while he'd always carry that dread, angst and anger, he WAS Archie's dad- and he was trying to make things better.

"Nah. I've got somewhere to go." He nodded with pursed lips, accepting the nomad character before him.

"Well… Dinner's at seven if you're interested in having some."

Jughead nodded, before turning around, dreading the short walk waiting between Archie's home to Betty Cooper's. He'd never been inside, never really gazed at the actually building for too long. While gorgeous and great and pretty and everything that was 'Cooper', it held an eerie kind of feeling to it. Like… The candy home, where outside looked warm and filled with sweet cookies and fluffy cupcakes, but within was something insidious… Something dark.

The stark figure of Jughead Jones sauntered up the frosty, white front-yard of the Cooper's, the glassy grass crunching beneath his boots, before climbing up the front steps. Each step was careful, perhaps a bit sluggish from a lack of caffeine, and perhaps a bit on edge (considering he'd never actually been this close to the house).

All he needed to do was talk to Betty. Chat with her. See if she wanted to go to Pop's or organise a meet up somewhere else (maybe the library? Maybe Archie's garage?)- just anywhere. She'd probably be upset that he's gone. She didn't even go down to say goodbye to either Veronica or Archie.

It took Jughead awhile to realize he'd been staring at the bright blue door for awhile. It just seemed like behind that door would be a cauldron of bubbling potions and hacking cackles and screaming souls locked up in a cage. Or maybe there was just a really silent home. Alice and Hal probably typing up a story for their dramatic and controversial paper, Betty probably eating cereal silently.

God. What a mess.

With a sigh, Jughead beat on the door a few times before taking a step back. He was already regretting this. It's not like he DISLIKED Betty. He liked her. She was nice. But did he really have to go all out for her? For Archie?

Would he even do this for Archie?

It was too late to turn around, the door opened, and there was Betty. She was wide-eyed, dressed in a dressing-gown with her hair messily pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. "J-Jughead?"

He was slow in responding, just a bit agape at her appearance. Even looking a bit tired, shocked and unkempt, she was god damn gorgeous. "Hey."

"What..." She quickly looked behind her shoulders, before stepping out of the house and shutting the door behind her. Realizing the chill was actually quite vicious, she hugged herself and gave her signature 'concerned Betty' look, "What are you doing here, this early in the morning?"

"Well." Archie internally kicked himself. What the fuck was he going to say? ' _Hey, Archie is scared for you. Veronica is, too. We want to make sure you don't turn out like Polly. Oh, yeah, I shouldn't KNOW about Polly, but here I am- I know about her!_ ' "Uh…" She gave him a look, confused and suspicious, "Archie and Veronica are gone. So is Kevin." She gave a stiff nod, lips pressed in silent acceptance. "And… I was wondering if you just wanted to hang at Pop's today."

"Just Pop's?" She gave an uncertain smile. "To do what?"

"Well. I'm going to be writing." Jughead's face fell as Betty didn't react positively or negatively, infact, she looked to be pursing her lips and taking into account that, yes, her friends were gone, her family was bat shit insane, she was practically alone, and school was over for the next few weeks. She sucked on her lower lip for a second, eyes gazing to the ground full of thought. It was almost preferable to leave her there, all the beanie wearing guy wanted to do was get his writing done. He'd fallen behind during the last week of exams and shit. But he was also embarrassed. Fuck.

"Well-"

"Elizabeth?" Came a distant call. Betty immediately slumped, a look of exasperation striking her. The call was repeated again and again, getting louder and louder until the door was opened and a slightly disgruntled looking woman appeared just behind Betty. Her blonde hair looked as luscious as Betty's, her eyes as blue as well. Perhaps, as a teenager, she was just as sweet as Betty. As caring and passionate, as well? Who knew. Alice's response to the sight of Jughead was one of obvious disgust. "…Jughead?" One hand gripped Betty's shoulder, to which the teenage woman rolled her eyes with an obvious look of guilt and embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh…" Jughead swallowed, "You know…"

"No. I don't."

"Just checking on some friends, like a good human. You know, reaching deep into that thing I call a soul." Again, he swallowed, dryly. Alice made him nervous. "Like a good human."

His show of incompetence may have been absolutely degrading to Alice, who deemed each word unsatisfactory, however Betty's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Like a good human?" Betty repeated with a hidden laugh.

"Well." Her mother sighed, gazing from the back of her daughter's head to his face, "You've checked on her, she's fine- have a good day-"

"Wait." Betty called, pulling away from her mom slightly. To be honest, it kind of shocked Jughead to see that kind of resistance, even just a little. Her eyes stared into his, full of meaning and alive with the tiniest bit of happiness, "Sure."

He nodded slightly, "Yeah. Sure. I'll… See you round ... I guess."

What did 'sure' mean? Sure, she'd come? Sure, she'd text him? Did she even have his number? Were they even facebook friends?

Alice sent seething daggers into Jughead's blank face, holding Betty's shoulders tightly but lovingly, "Good bye, Jughead Jones." She almost played with his name, knowing it was ridiculous and knowing it would absolutely send crimson clouds into his cheeks, "We'll see you around Riverdale _after_ the holiday's."

"Sure."

"Sure."

Betty turned around slightly as Alice tried to shut the door, mouthing 'sure' with the perfect Alice Cooper impersonation, to which Jughead's face burst into a crack of a lopsided smile.

While this meeting meant nothing (perhaps it meant a slight case of 'what the fuck has Archie gotten me in to?'), he could feel that perhaps Betty wasn't that little glass ballerina. She had spunk. She had _something._

* * *

Pop's was buzzing all morning long as liberated students came in for a fix of coffee or hot chocolate before they could play in the whitening land of Riverdale, yet Jughead managed to find his usual spot empty. The booth at the very end of the restaurant called to him and lovingly seated him, coaxing him with the warm corduroy seats and the free wifi. It was almost easy to start writing again.

The ambience of the red, pink and blue neon lights that stubbornly flashed in the light of day put in him a hue of relaxation: there was no longer the indignantly bright white lights of the classroom, no longer the irritating words of the teachers or the threats of the high school thugs… There was just… Coffee. Black, deep, bitter coffee. Warm seats. A friendly Pop's who would always give him a free basket of chips… And best of all: time to just escape in his mind.

Except…

 _Vrr…Vrrrr…Vrrrr_

His phone vibrated.

 **Hey, Jughead, r u in Pop's?**

It was from Betty. Leaning to the window and pressing his nose against the glass, Jughead could see the shape of the blonde woman standing sheepishly outside, unsure of whether or not to come in or walk all the way home. Her hair was pulled up in her usual ponytail, body hugged by a baby blue sweater and legs coated in skinny jeans.

 ** _Yeah_ **Jughead typed, _**I'm in the back booths. As usual**._

As soon as she got the text, she was already wondering in, opening the door with grace and ease. God. Jughead swallowed, eyes distracted from the carefully placed words on his laptop. He'd seen her a thousand times: dancing on the field in that stupid uniform, wondering through the halls with books and folders held against her chest, running during Phys ed, and yet.. Now?

She just looked like she was determined to be there, determined to get away from the bullshit behind her and to find some sort of relief. Like a lioness escaping a group of hunters. She glanced in his direction and a smile danced on her lips, where she quickly sat opposite of him.

"Are you still being good? Like a human?"

It took Jughead a minute to remember what she meant before he gave a lopsided grin, "Yeah… I mean, I'm trying. I don't get how humans can do this."

"It's hard, isn't it? All that smiling, all that bullshit?" She feigned a sigh, "How can anyone be a human? It's much better to be an orc." She laughed at the look of sudden shock on his face. "What? Terrified I found out your secret identity."

"Well," Jughead grimaced, "horrified, really." She laughed louder, covering her mouth as he broke into a wide smile. "More shocked that Betty Cooper even knows about orcs."

The blonde played with her ponytail, suddenly rolling her eyes, "Betty Cooper must only read romance novels, watch irritatingly dramatic soap operas and write in her diary, right?"

"Well…" Jughead made a face, "When you put it that way…" He was joking of course. Betty gave him a kick under the table, where he attempted to redeem himself, "To be honest, I can only imagine you drinking milkshakes, writing for the Blue and Gold and hanging with Veronica and Archie."

"I do have my own hobbies." Betty seemed to unflinchingly ignore the names 'Veronica and Archie', "And… Well, yes, I read romance novels and watch soap operas- and I do own a diary- I have a tendency to read everything else."

"So it's just books for you?"

"Well, what about you?"

Jughead remained quiet for a second, thinking earnestly, before sighing, "I basically ingest books."

She grinned. The two were taken aback at the realization that they'd actually had a laugh with each other. It had never happened. Jughead usually remained the voice of sardonic humor between the four of them, or rarely spoke to any of them with such closeness. "…Well…" Betty's face dropped the smile, before she gently picked up the well-worn menu, "I'm in desperate need of a hot chocolate."

"No milkshake?"

"At ten o'clock in the morning? With weather like this?"

"Fair point."

Pop almost knew miraculously when to come by, holding his usual notepad and pen. "What can I get you Betty? Vanilla milkshake?"

"No, thanks." She smiled, "just a hot chocolate."

"Coming right up, Miss Cooper!" He practically skipped away, obviously enjoying today.

Betty and Jughead sat down in relative silence, him returning to his story with energy. He could almost finish this chapter, almost just get halfway with this tale- he just needed to stay focused. But he couldn't. He could almost sense the leather boots by his, he could literally smell the jasmine perfume- he could see the bouncy, blonde hair out of the corner of his eyes. He looked up from the laptop to see Betty staring at her phone icily.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

She looked up, alarmed, "Oh, what? Yeah. Everything's fine."

What a liar. Jughead ignored it. Time to move on. She wasn't going to tell him, he definitely wasn't her Archie. But remembering what he was told by that damned Archie, he had to try and talk. "Your mom sure hasn't changed since the last time I saw her."

She leant back as Pop landed the large mug of hot, steaming chocolate by her side. With a small thanks, she turned back to the beanie wearing teen in question. "Really? It's like she got worse."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Just lately. Because of you know, just, stuff. She's being extra protective."

"Does she even know you're out?"

"She thinks I'm studying with Josie." Jughead raised an eyebrow, "Jughead, come on." She gave him a pleading look, "You know she doesn't like anyone I like. Yet, Josie is the mayor's daughter. To mom, she's this goody-two-shoes with good ties and good blood and … you know… Bla, bla, bla."

"I just don't know why she's like this lately?" Of course he knew. Polly was crazy. Polly was driven to attempting suicide because of her mother and, Jug guessed, Jason. But better to hear it from Betty. He furrowed his brows, "Are you okay?"

"Me?"

"Well, you were gone from school for awhile?"

"You noticed?" She twerked one fine, arched brow. "Jug, I'm flattered."

"School is basically empty without the fine Blue and Gold's chief editor."

She sucked on the insides of her cheeks, before smiling, "Yeah. Everything's fine. I got a bit of a cold for awhile."

And of course. She wouldn't budge. Wouldn't tell him, wouldn't let Bughead know the truth so he could try and patch it up and now he was with this quiet, perfect, cracked doll. What was he supposed to do for two weeks?

 _Vrr… Vrrr… Vrrr_ …

Jughead sighed and opened his phone. It was Archie.

 **How's Betty? She's not answering my texts. V says hey.**

An internal groan basically allowed Jug to control his irritation. Come on. Why was he irritated? This blonde girl was perfect. Kind, sweet, intelligent and beautiful. Yes, her mom was crazy. So was her dad. Her sister, too. But surely… Betty was not.

Or maybe she was.

Betty stared at her phone for a minute, about to say something before Jughead just asked it, "Hey, are you alright?" She gave him a confused face, before he continued, "Archie says you're not answering his texts."

She rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her mug before placing it down, "I just don't want to talk." And yet, she didn't look angry or stubborn. While she was definitely okay, definitely in the short-term happy, he could see the depths of sadness. "…"

Jughead stared at her intensely. This was so much more than he thought it would be. "…You can tell me."

"…Maybe… I'm sad. About everything." She spilled. "And I don't know if I can tell you."

"But you can." Jughead insisted, "Look, I'm not Archie, I'm not Kevin and I'm definitely not Veronica. But … Seeing that everyone has gone and left… You can tell me."

"You won't tell Archie?"

Well, would he? He wouldn't have to? After all, Archie hadn't really given him any favors landing him with babysitting Betty. But… All he really had to do was just get her to text him back, see that Archie didn't mean to abandon her… Whatever could be done, Jughead would try.

"Scouts honor." Jughead sighed, shutting his laptop.

Betty gave him her charming smile, holding her hands tightly together, "Well." Though her lips curled into something uneasy, "Maybe I'm sad."

"It sounds like it."

"You know, Archie and I were friends since the very beginning. He and I… We'd do nearly everything together. Even when mom became… Controlling… He would always make things better. Always make me feel like, you know, I could just, like, do anything." Her blue eyes seemed to fill with tears, "And now, it's like I've lost him."

"But you haven't."

"But it feels like I have." She insisted, "I… GET that he and I will never happen. I've come to peace with that, and I'm not _in_ love with him," contraire to popular believe, Jughead thought, slightly shocked, "but I love him. And I miss him. And these past few weeks have been _so bad_ and I don't know what to do and seeing him leave to have fun and enjoy his life while I'm stuck here hating it just _sucks_. It's like…"

"He doesn't feel you're as important as he used to?"

She remained silent, sucking in her lips in some attempt to not burst into tears and slowly nodded, "It sounds dumb, doesn't it?"

Jughead tentatively moved his head between a mix of a nod and a shake, pressing his lips together, "Not really. I can definitely see what you mean."

She mouthed, 'can you?' tearfully.

He carried on, "But … Archie thinks you're incredibly important. He loves you, definitely. And… Not that I'm saying you're DEFINITELY saying this, but just because he's left to be with Veronica doesn't mean he thinks she's more important or anything else, he just… Couldn't waste a few months of wages."

"But… I feel like," She groaned, rubbing her eyes in frustration, "He knows what's happening- with my family- and …" With another groan, she dropped her head onto her outstretched hands, sobbing quietly. "I know it's selfish. I just miss him. And Ronnie. And Kevin. It sucks to see them go. I just have _no one to talk to._ "

Jughead sat there, sighing and staring at the shaking form of Betty Cooper. He'd never seen her cry, and it suddenly made sense. Who wouldn't cry? Hell, even Jughead cried: there was no point lauding over any fake form of masculinity to deny it. But it just seemed outlandish to see someone so confident and perfect to just break down. What could he do? How could he comfort her?

Slowly, he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder, sighing, "I may not be Archie, or Veronica, or, admittedly, anything like Kevin, but you can talk to me. Anytime."

 _For Archie._

God, what was he doing? This morning was a fuck up. He didn't hate Betty, fuck, no- he had no reason to- but from seeing this woman who was the daisy of Riverdale to actually being someone with problems, with real feelings, with baggage that wasn't all haute couture, it was.. Weird. And awakening.

It was like digging through plush, white snow and soon finding imperfect layers of muddy slush and pressed, autumn leaves… Ugly, but incredibly real. "…Juggy…" She whispered, looking up into his eyes, "Thanks. And sorry."

"Don't apologise. I don't exactly know what's going on in your house," What a liar, Jughead thought grumpily, "but if Alice Cooper is involved, I can imagine it's not exactly fun."

Betty sat back up, haughtily snorting, "It's a nightmare, Jug." The two teenagers were interrupted gently by Pop's who came with another coffee refill and a complementary cup of hot cocoa for Betty, smiling with joy at the sight of the two dedicated customers.

"Is everything alright, Betty?" He asked, eyes drooping sympathetically.

"It is now, Pop's." She smiled, an image of cherries and bubblegum summers popping into Jughead's mind. Just like that, she could wipe all that angst away.

As Pop and her had a quick conversation, Jughead found himself leaning on his hand, staring intently at the blonde. _God. She's beautiful._

The day ended for the both of them at three pm when Betty was sent a tirade of hurried, furious texts from her father and mother- and when she attempted to ignore them, calls were made, until the blonde couldn't ignore them anymore.

She gave him a sheepish smile, sliding out of the seat, "…Sorry, I have to go. But thank you, Jug. I hope I wasn't too scary," She laughed at Jughead's roll of the eyes. They both smiled at each other silently, before she filled in the silence with a hurried, nervous and almost mumbled sigh, " _Maybe_ we could hang out again?"

Jughead leant back in his booth, thinking for a second or two.

"Or not. You know, like, it's up to you, I guess."

"Well, I'm free tomorrow." Archie would want him to hang with her, just to see how she was doing. Jughead nodded inwardly, it was the right thing to do. Plus, he wasn't against seeing her again. "If you want." He added uneasily.

Smiling yet again, she laughed, "Sure. I'm free tomorrow. Maybe we could do something else, then?"

"Yeah. Sure, sounds like a plan."

"Sure! Definitely." She gave a small laugh, turning away before turning back, waving awkwardly, "I'll see you."

Oh, Jughead, he thought to himself. _I'm so confused._

He quickly picked his phone up, texting Archie, **She's okay. Stop worrying, enjoy your holiday.**

Almost instantly, he got a reply, _Vrr…Vrrr…Vrrr…_

 **Thanks, man. I owe you.**

Sighing, and maybe even regretting the next few words, he texted, **Yeah, you really do.**

 _Fuck. I sound like my dad._

* * *

Trying hard to speak  
and Fighting with my weak hand  
Driven to distraction  
It's all part of the plan  
When something is broken and you try to fix it  
Trying to repair it anyway you can  
\- Coldplay


	2. Betty likes to Dance

She looks like the real thing  
She tastes like the real thing  
My fake plastic love  
But I can't help the feeling  
I could blow through the ceiling  
If I just turn and run  
\- Radiohead

* * *

By the time Jughead returned back to Archie's, Fred Andrews was just serving dinner. The smell of sizzling, garlic glazed meat striking the young, buzzing teenager. "Ah, Jug, you're back." The young teen nodded quietly, seating himself where Archie usually sat. "I hope you don't mind some home made burgers tonight." Fred hummed, serving Jughead a monumental portion: the burger itself was a magnificent statue, the patty itself drooling grease and drooping over the buns holding it in place.

"It's food- I never mind-" he poked at it a few times, watching the steam that wafted from the beef, "And these look… glorious." Flicking his gaze from man to food, Fred acknowledged Jughead's appraisal before serving himself. "And they taste- glorious-" he hummed, grease dribbling down his chin.

Dinner went by without a hitch, Fred awkwardly (as most dad's do?) stumbled through conversation after conversation: talking about homework to the weather and to music… And while Jughead never really spoke that animatedly, he responded properly and even asked a few of his own awkwardly timed questions. Everything was _fine_ … Until he mentioned girls. "So, Juggy, snagged yourself anyone yet?"

Arching a brow and stopping mid chew, the young teen awkwardly scratched the back of his head, swallowing before bumbling out, "Well- uh- that's…" Fred's eyes gleamed with glee, "I mean…" Is it wrong that the first things Juggy thought of were a pair of blue, crystal clear eyes and bouncy, golden hair? "No. Definitely not."

Fred chuckled to himself, picking at a pickle on his plate and chewing on it thoughtfully, "I'm only teasing you. Though, while Archie does have Veronica, I always wondered what would come of you. You always sit on your own, or with Archie, and that's it."

"To be honest, at the moment, women aren't my main concern." A lie and a truth in itself. Betty was now his main concern over this holiday, but, as well, he'd never really had time to worry about women. He had a libido and was definitely attracted to the opposite sex, yet, he couldn't ever really focus on it. Jughead tried to prevent the red flush taking hold of his face, attempting to focus on the food infront of him. This whole 'Betty' thing was already weighing on his mind. But that's as far as 'women problems' came for him. Fred nodded understandingly, but instead of dropping it, continued.

"You know, I had a friend from work today tell me that he saw Betty Cooper talking it up with a certain beanie wearing boy." Instead of absently focusing on food, Fred grabbed a napkin, wiped his face, before staring at Jughead humorously. Except now, Jughead felt increasingly embarrassed.

"Oh, Betty? She's a friend, I guess."

"A pretty one."

"But still a friend." Jughead insisted with a forced smile.

Fred meant it in a way that was all jest and good feelings, that, Jughead knew. But it was still weird. This whole day was weird for Jughead. It was… weird to see Betty like that. Her perfection was essentially proven wrong. She cried, she had a torrentially bumpy family-life, she was lonely and even… Dramatic. But she was also still kind.

And gorgeous.

And welcoming. And even though the dark haired teenager would be dying to focus on his story, she left such an impression that… _He actually did want to see her again._

Fred dropped the subject, "I'm only joking, Jug."

"I know."

"But, if you were to date Betty, she'd be a lucky girl."

Jughead groaned loudly, "Oh _GOD._ "

Fred gave a good laugh, "I promise, I'm dropping it now! You know, when I was your age, FP," the mention of his dad left shivers in Jughead's spine. The story of his dad when he was younger sounded so cool, so amazing- so inspiring- that to know that that man was now just a drunken…Serpant… it grossed him out. But then again, Jughead was no better already, "was insistent on getting one lil lady to take out."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, he had all these girls constantly going for him- but it was his mission to take this one, specific woman out to homecoming." It was hard to imagine his cold, tough dad could even be that hotshot, Jughead thought miserably. But just to imagine that his dad had been someone nice, had been someone cool- it meant a lot to him. Perhaps Fred knew that, perhaps he wanted to tell Jughead that his dad was a good guy under all that bullshit.

"Who?" Jughead mumbled.

"You're mom." Fred smiled, continuing the story. Jughead leant on his hands, completely forgetting the juicy burger, listening intently to every word.

* * *

Jughead knew for a fact that he wouldn't be getting much sleep. The room was weird to experience empty. It definitely was lacking a certain red haired guy and the humour that came with him. And it was just strange to think that twenty four hours ago, the two of them had been bonding over a bag of chips. "…" He sighed, sitting on the bed and checking his phone quickly. No new messages from Archie… Or Betty.

Archie was probably having the time of his life with Veronica, maybe eating some fine Italian food or some cheap hotdogs or partying like there was no tomorrow. He was probably having fun. And here Jughead was.

Pursing his lips and inhaling through his nose he completely, accidently, looked through the window and out into the next one- Betty's. He'd never really looked into her room, maybe once or twice in the last few weeks purposefully, but he'd never really thought of staring in to the window of her room- and her life. As he'd found out the mysteries of puberty and the female body, he and Archie had curiously stared into it until they realized quickly it was actually wrong. But now, it felt wrong to look. But he still found himself staring and he couldn't stop.

She was sitting there on the bed, almost in the same position as Jug, reading. It captivated him immediately: there she was. Her hair was loose, her pyjamas on, completely free of any obvious prying eyes. What would she be reading? Jughead asked himself, but the answer was already floating in his mind: probably a romance. Or fantasy. Maybe even a murder mystery?

This revelation that she wasn't defined by what she obviously appeared as was somewhat new and welcome to Jughead. Of course, he'd wrongly judged her to be this sweet, pastel entity with little to no emotional depth and a hatred of the strange. She was something else. Someone who didn't just smile and giggle and try and be too nice: she had her issues, she had her own life that was actually… _far more interesting… tragic… beautiful and lonesome than he'd first thought._

He stared and stared and stared for far too long, gazing as she lost herself in a land of whatever, entrenched in the words jumping from the pages. Where were her thoughts? Was she finding clues in the dunes of the Egyptian sand plains beside Poirot? Was she wondering through lush, furry forests searching for elves? Or was she gazing down upon the luscious imagery of a romance: envisioning two lovers wooing, kissing and hugging?

Suddenly, Jug furrowed his brows in frustration, grabbing at his beanie before tugging it off in embarrassment. Why was he thinking that? He threw the old, grey thing by his feet before climbing below the sheets. His face was beginning to burn red with humiliation. Why was he focusing so hard on her?

With a huff, he twisted to his side, shutting his eyes forcefully. He just needed sleep. But every time his eyes slid closed, all he could think of was today. The fog that wafted around Archie and Betty's home, the sight of her opening the door and greeting him- seeing her lone figure in the crisp, snowy wonderland outside Pop's… Hearing her cry and then laugh and then disappear…

He twisted onto his back, eyes opening involuntarily before the light from her room shone into his- he was forced to look at her this time.

She was still there, turning a page, smiling this time. What was it? _Did they find another clue? Were the lovers together? Were the elves and dwarves together?_

He sighed, god, how embarrassing. Why was this woman making such an impact on his mind? He just wanted sleep. But it was interesting. She'd hooked herself into his mind, captivated him. Her kindness, her humour, her woes- he was absorbed.

At least Archie made this stimulating. At least he wasn't bored. At least he wasn't suffering from awkward silences alongside her in Pop's and shifty ' _Actually, Jughead, as a Cooper I would never hang out with you.'_.

But on that, they were meeting up tomorrow, weren't they? Jug's stomach twisted uneasily. He couldn't just take her to Pop's; after all, she'd requested something different. And as much as he wanted to continue writing, both he and Betty had agreed to meet up… And to be honest, he would rather spend time with her.

Where could he go? It's not like the really wondered in the North side of town. Pop's, Archie's house, the old drive in and the trailer park. But that was it. And he most definitely couldn't take her to Archie's home (it's kind of weird) or the trailer park. Definitely not the latter: she'd scrunch her nose up and obviously be visibly revolted at the sight of his father's humble abode. The drive in? That was … a fine suggestion. However, it wasn't very feasible durind a snowy day. Maybe a cold night? But that sounded like more of a date than a day of chatting.

And it wasn't a date.

He looked out the window again to see her closing her book, placing it on her bedside, climbing out of her blankets and then switching her light off. The lack of light almost shocked Jug as he was enveloped in darkness, his eyes greeted with a shock of black. But quickly, light was reintroduced by his small, cracked phone screen. His fingers were already sliding across the glass, unlocking and texting.

 ** _Hey, do you want to meet up by the library, tomorrow morning at 11?_**

He sent in quickly without even thinking. The library? He hadn't been in there for a while, he avoided the new, monstrous building that smelt of detergent and new books. Once upon a time, when he was a bit younger, there had been an older library- a gorgeous one. It smelt of musky pages and stained wood, with creaky floors and grand, old lights he'd expect in some noir, vintage movie with Greer Garson in her dark, svelte suits. But the mayor (god he really disliked her and her 'moving forward for a better Riverdale' slogan) knocked it down for a 'new and improved' library. It just felt fake.

But that was the first thing he'd thought in some desperate (really, it was desperate, why was he this desperate to see her?) attempt to just communicate and know tomorrow was a Betty and Jughead day.

He was caught with baited breath at the text bubble on the screen. He felt ridiculous at the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He'd never been good at making friends, never been particularly skilled at trying this hard. With Archie it had come incredibly easy, they clicked. But with Betty? How could he be friends with her? This perfect (albeit flawed, beautifully flawed) woman was kind, yes, but maybe she regretted being friends with him, maybe she just wanted to hang with him until Archie came back…

Maybe…

His heart jolted as the little metal thing in his hand vibrated, _vr..vrrr….Vrr…_

 ** _Sure! I'll see u there :) Thanks for today, by the way. It was nice._**

He swallowed, staring at the words, staring out the window before he saw the light of her phone as well.

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _BTW, sorry if I was a bit overwhelming. I think everything just got to me._**

She was actually talking to him again. He licked his lips, typing his response quickly.

 ** _You were definitely not overwhelming, Betty. And yeah, it was good._**

Silence. Maybe she'd gone to sleep. Maybe that was her good night text.

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrrr…_

 ** _Thanks, Jug. I was shocked to actually see u on my doorstep this morning :) But I'm glad, it was good 2 actually see someone._**

He typed again, ignoring how tired he was.

 ** _Yeah. I hope it wasn't weird._**

Instant reply.

 _Vrr…Vrr..Vrr…_

 ** _Definitely not weird. I know we don't really talk that much, but you're my friend :)_**

Is it wrong to say Jughead was feeling a bit touched? Charmed? Happy? The words meant a lot, they ignited a feeling within him that said 'she isn't grossed out by you, she said you're her friend-'

 ** _Teah, I just thought it'd be good to see someone._**

 ** _Yeah*_**

As much as Jug would wish this whole thing today had been an organic decision, he very well couldn't tell Betty that Archie had told him to basically babysit her. Bad idea. Big no no. It was one of those things Jughead would have to carry to the grave. He wasn't interested in upsetting her and digging a grave for Archie.

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _It was nice. Mom essentially blew up when I got home. I think she found out; she started raving about how dangerous you are._**

Jughead grimaced, **_Do you believe her?_**

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _Oh god, Jughead, you're the most dangerous guy I'll ever meet!_**

He smirked, sensing her sarcasm. **_I'm glad you're realizing it now._**

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _Credit is given where Credit is due- and Jughead Jones the third, the most dangerous guy in all of Riverdale, is taking Betty Cooper, the most dangerous woman in America, to the library tomorrow._**

He laughed under his breath, a smile reaching his lips, **_Those three librarians and local old people will be shaking in their boots._**

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _First we take the library, then Pop's, then the world._**

Very quickly, a new message came through. _Vrr..Vrr…Vrr…_ _ **I'm going to bed :) I'm tired. It's 12 in the morning! Ha, sleep well.**_

With a twist of the lips, he sent a short 'goodnight' before slipping his phone on charge and falling fast asleep in Archie's bed.

* * *

The next morning, Jughead woke to a barrage of updates from his phone. At first his stomach flipped in fear: was this Betty telling him no to the plans, telling him he was just a worthless vagrant? But as he rubbed his eyes, scrolling through his updates, he realized he'd been invited into a group chat with Kevin, Veronica and Archie.

Archie: _Hey, J. I just wanted to say thanks for clearing things up with Betty. I don't know what you said, but things are better._

Veronica: _Yeah, thank you Jughead. I felt really bad, but we spoke and she's not angry. Or that sad._

 ** _VERONICA CHANGED ARCHIE'S NICKNAME TO: Archiekins._**

Archiekins: _What did you actually do with her yesterday?_

Kevin: _Yeah, I'm eager to hear as well. I mean, she wasn't angry or sad with me because she knew I was forced to join my family on this shipwreck of a family reunion ;') But she seemed in a better mood this morning._

Veronica: _Shut up, Kevin. We didn't leave her on purpose._

Jug groaned, rolling around in Archie's bed before typing a short reply.

Jughead: _Nothing, we just went to Pop's and chatted._

Kevin: _Now I'm curious. She won't reply to my messages._

Archiekins: _She's probably having breakfast._

Jughead: _Why are we having this groupchat?_

Veronica: _We just want to stay in touch with what's going on! Nothing weird, nothing strange. Just three friends watching out for their best friend~~_

Jughead: _This is a bit weird._

Kevin: _considering the circumstances, I disagree. Polly literally tried to kill herself. Her mom sent her to a psych ward. Jason is gone to a boarding school. Betty is on her own with insane parents who basically want to control her way more than they used to._

Jughead: _point taken. But why has Jason got anything to do with this?_

Silence. No repy.

No one had read the message either. Had they really just left him hanging? Irritation wept into his body as he rolled onto his other side, imagining them probably putting their phones down to enjoy their holiday. Veronica and Archie were probably eating bagels and drinking lattes as they strolled through central park, or perhaps they were still in the sheets having some fun- and maybe Kevin was sitting at a big breakfast table enjoying home-made hash browns and crispy bacon. It actually made Jughead realize that not only was he slightly jealous (he was stuck in cold, isolated Riverdale) he was also quite angry.

They were talking about their friend, Betty, and recognising she was in a shitty situation and then they could just _turn off their phones and enjoy their days_. And while, yes, Jughead couldn't be mad at humans just being humans and enjoying their lives, it was unfair. Just so unfair that it was just made him seethe.

So, because they were having the time of their lives, they could just shove Jughead and Betty together and expect everything to be fine?

For a second, Jughead almost wanted to text Betty and call the day off, he was just furious. Poor Betty. Poor him. God, fuck, he thought, sitting up. He scratched his forehead, breathing in furiously. But when he looked out the window and saw Betty's room (curiously empty from one Betty Cooper), he calmed.

…While he hated that they had shoved him and her together, he definitely didn't hate her. He felt bad for her. He liked her (oh god, as a friend!). He thought she was funny and sad and tragically misunderstood and there was just so much more to her than anyone could ever feel about her.

He stared back at his phone, before typing another message.

Jughead: _Guys. Answer. Now._

In a minute, Archie read the message.

Archiekins: _Yeha, Betty won't say. But Jason went to boarding school… Two days later, she tries to kill herself. Since the two of them were dating, it connects. We all know the two of them were the 'dream team' and then suddenly that happens._

Archiekins: _Yeah*_

Veronica: _And seeing that Cheryl has this weird obsession with Jason, I don't trust she'll be very forgiving of the sister of the woman who may have sent him to boarding school, no?_

Archiekins: _Yeah, exactly. Maybe watch out for that?_

Jughead rolled his eyes. He highly doubted Cheryl would cross their paths anytime soon.

Jughead: _Aye Aye, Matey._

He turned his phone off and climbed out of bed. Time for breakfast. And then a little time to write- and then he could see Betty.

* * *

By the time it was eleven o'clock, Jughead was standing by the library. The chill was surprisingly lax today compared to yesterday, with the sun reaching up into the sky and breaking through the barrage of clouds. While a layer of snow had indeed fallen while they were asleep, the sky gave some consolation to Jughead that today would be slightly warmer.

Though, he couldn't ignore the fact that it was cold. His feet were wrapped in three socks and they were still tingling in discomfort. The snow was thick enough to cover up grass and fallen leaves, thick enough to cover the roads and have some guy clearing it up- thick enough to glisten and shine as the sun gazed down. It was quite beautiful, Jug decided as he sat on the cold, library steps. The library was essentially central to Riverdale, in the very middle of it all. It sat right next to the Town Hall and the park.

From that point, he could look and essentially see the hotels, apartments, shopping centre, the forests and the small, independent shops littering their town. "Jug!" came a bright voice.

He looked to his right, seeing a familiar blonde hurriedly walking from the bus stop up the library stairs. "Be careful, the steps are slippery." He called out cautiously, pulling himself to his feet and stepping down to meet her, yet she giggled as she slipped slightly forward, before heading his caution and slowing down.

He came down a few steps to meet her, smiling slightly. She looked pretty happy. "Good morning."

"Morning." Her smile was infectious and he couldn't help but give her a lopsided grin, "Shall we go in?"

She gave him a look, "Actually, I decided not to go to the library."

His stomach dropped. Oh god, was she just going to say 'I'm actually going to hang out somewhere else, and no, you're not welcome.'? Ugh, how embarrassing- how hurtful.

"What?"

She grabbed his elbow, obviously amused. "Well, I mean, being in a library on a nice day like this would be a total waste."

"…" Okay. Slight relief there. Jughead's frozen expression dropped slightly, but Betty took it the wrong way. Her eyebrows slanted in worry, and for a minute, she feared she'd done something wrong.

"Oh, Jug, I mean- if you want to stay in the library, we definitely can-"

"No," He interjected, stomach recovering, "No, you're definitely right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, let's do something else. Do you have an idea on where to go?"

She released his elbow, smiling like a child who knows where the stash of hidden candy is. Her bubblegum lips were chewed on deviously, " _Well_ , there's a band playing in this new café and, well, I was wondering if you'd like to see that?"

"A band playing at eleven am?"

"Oh, no, it's playing at two, and it's in this little underground thing-" She stared into his eyes, watching his reaction. Normally, Jughead wasn't for live music, but thinking about her face lighting up in enjoyment? He wouldn't miss that. "I mean… We don't have to do that. I just thought it'd be fun."

"Yeah, no, let's do it." He smiled, "Sounds fun. What should we do til then?"

"I'm thinking we get something to eat and just chill."

The walk to the café was short. It was definitely something Jug did not expect to see in Riverdale of all places. It seemed to be forged out of the Cellar of the theatre, as it was directly underneath it. The walls were painted black, the floor was stone, and the lights were dim and barely shone anything properly. As he and Betty stalked down the stairs, he felt as if he had dived into a mystery tale, about to meet criminal gang members.

He expected everyone to be wearing black turtlenecks or long duster coats, he expected to see Tommy-guns and cigarettes filling the room with smoke, but he saw a normal café scene. The adults were chatting in a low hum, the music playing through the speakers was the bustling shriek of trumpets, and the entire room smelt of roasted coffee beans.

Betty turned to him, smiling excitedly, "Veronica told me it was a nice place. I'm shocked that she's been here before and I haven't-"

"Same." Jug gazed in shock. It was definitely not Pop's. Sure, it was nice, jazzy, dark, private (something Riverdale was not), but he would never abandon Pop's for it. Gazing at the look Betty gave him- a quirky smile, wide eyes that read 'well, this is different' and a quirky cock of the head as she looked around- she felt the same way. They were the Pop's kids, Jughead thought with humour. Like bugs, they were drawn to the neon signs littering the old diner walls, like flies they would attach themselves to sweet milkshakes and salty fries- they could never give that up.

Betty led him to a small booth made of fine, fresh, crisp leather that refused to sink below her or Jug's ass, leaving them propped upright against the oak tables that screamed 'wannabe vintage'. Betty murmured quietly, "Well, Veronica definitely has a taste."

Poking the centrepiece of the table, a mason jar filled with dried flowers, Jughead hummed in agreement. "It's… Different."

"Not bad?"

"Well-"

"We can go if you want."

"No!" He hurriedly replied, twisting to face her. IT was then that he realized how dark it really was. Her worried features could only just be made out, but she still looked gorgeous. Her eyes relaxed slightly, where she nodded.

"Cool." Her fingers played with the wood of the table, where she turned to face him again, "So, how did you go with school?"

"What do you mean?"

"School marks came back." She hummed, "They were, like, mailed to our homes? Did you get yours?"

Jughead frowned, "Oh. Yeah, in case you forgot, I don't live at Archie's officially. They were probably sent to my dad's."

Her face fell, she looked a little sheepish. "Oh, yeah." Immediately, she apologised, "Sorry, I … Guess I forgot."

He held up a hand, "It's fine, it's just the truth."

She paused, before looking at her fingers, murmuring, "Well, how is your dad? I mean… Not to be nosy… But, if you want to talk?"

Jughead pursed his lips. She was sweet, not nosy. He could tell that below the concerned words there was even more earnest concern. Instead of slapping her away with a cold glance or a fake smile, he stared into her eyes and smiled honestly, "It's alright. It's complicated."

She nodded slowly, "Sure. I mean, alright. I'm… Not trying to be nosy-"

"Yeah, I know-"

"It's just what friends do," She hastily explained. She played with the laminated menu, attempting to read it before irritatingly gasping, "How can anyone read a menu in this light? Veronica, yet again you've proven yourself to be ridiculous."

Jug sucked on his lips, withholding a snort, before laughing softly, "I will say this: I'm liking the darkness. It's like a personal little cave everyone can hide in." Betty rolled her eyes before he nodded in the opposite direction, "See, there," there was a man hidden in the corner sipping on tea, he looked utterly miserable. A lone figure, sadly sucking on warmth, "he's got his own little dark area where he can sooth himself with tea," he nodded at a couple, joyful as they sat close to each other, eating their food as they giggled and spread their warmth and love, "they're in their own little bubble, in _love_."

"What about us?" Betty smiled, "Two moody teens, escaping from bullshit?"

Jughead nodded, grinning. But he was distracted by that very question. Betty and he, sitting together, hidden in the dark… Both were escaping bullshit, both were confiding together, both were taking solace. And while Jughead didn't feel ready to talk about his life, about everything deep inside of him with her, just seeing her laughing and smiling and talking and keeping him distracted was solace enough.

"Hey," A waitress sauntered up, dressed in black, holding a pen and paper and smiling, "What can I get you two?"

"A long black." Jughead threw his usual order, before quickly scanning the menu as well as he could in the limited light, he quickly mumbled, "Could I have a plate of nachos?"

Betty hummed, "Yeah… Can I have a chai latte? And the nachos as well?"

"Sure! Won't be too long."

As she left, Betty sighed. "To be honest, I'm glad I'm out of the house. And with someone else."

"Hm?"

"Well… This morning, mom just had a huge freak out. I got a B+ on maths and that wasn't good enough and all she kept doing was telling me that I now need to drop Cheer and now need to stop hanging with Archie and Veronica and you and Kevin because 'Polly wouldn't do this' and it's just all kinds of messed up because, well, look at Polly now." Her voice got thick, "And then Veronica and Archie keep texting me!"

"I thought everything was fine?"

Betty's eyes widened in shock and horror, "Oh- God- Yes- I … Well, I love those guys. I was sad and heartbroken to be left alone but I know they didn't do it in malice… But… It's been like, twenty texts in the first hour of me waking up!" She showed Jug her phone. Indeed, the two of them were desperately trying to engage her in a conversation, obviously worried for her mentality. "It's just this barrage of texts and care and condescending shit that I honestly don't want."

Jug took her phone and his before placing them both by the table number. "No more Archie and Veronica today!" He gave her a half smile as she gave her usual ray of sunshine.

"If I'm gone for an hour, mom will have the cops dredging the lake and Veronica and Archie will probably have heart attacks."

It was probably true. It irritated Jug. For one second, could she not just be there, hiding from the world? All eyes had to be on her. He cocked his head to the side, "Probably. But what an exciting mess it will be." God, things were different to what he'd thought. This princess with the light on her constantly, no flaws- just picture book beautiful- and she must have loved it! But it was the opposite. This normal, perfect, weirdo who was shoved in this persistent and never ending cycle of craziness.

She twisted to face Jug, smiling, "Maybe they'll say Jug and Crazy Cooper ran away, never to be seen again." Her eyes twinkled.

"All the way to Alaska we fled."

She laughed, "Alaska? I think not."

"Oh?"

"God, it'd have to be somewhere interesting. With mystery and – you know- interesting stuff! Like… The small country towns of France, where disgruntled men keep a dark secret buried below the truffles…"

"Or Italy?"

"Yeah- those grandmas know how to hide a murder."

"It's settled, Bug and Crazy Cooper are being set out into the world," Jug waved his hand as if he were an excited conductor, "to solve all the wrongdoings and bring peace to the minds of the suffering."

She laughed, and before she could say anything further, their drinks arrived. The waitress smiled at them both politely, "Food will be out shortly."

Jug nodded. And then it was silent. He reached for his drink, sipping at the scalding liquid. God what should he say now? They were way too close, her fingers kept grazing his thigh whenever she placed it on the seat- he could smell that perfume, he could hear her breathing, he could see her hair glistening from the dim light of the candles- but out of everything, he was overcome by her silence. What should he do? Leave? He wanted to. This was weird. He didn't know how to act. It wasn't like Archie.

He didn't _want to smell Archie_ and whenever he did he wouldn't think _fuck that smells like Jasmine_. This was different. He'd never felt like this, a weird unsettling feeling that was deep in his gut. He looked to Betty, watching her sip her latte as she was consumed by thoughts. He couldn't just bring up football.

BETTY DIDN'T PLAY FOOTBALL.

Before anything could be said or done, Betty quickly asked, "Do you think I'm a crazy Cooper?"

"What?"

She twisted to look at him properly, knees sliding up on the seat against his own, he held back a flinch, "You… You must know what they say about Polly and I. Everyone knows she had her breakdown. Everyone knows it's because of mom and Jason- and-"

"They think you're crazy, too?" Jug wouldn't lie. He'd heard a few people saying it. The definition of Betty Cooper wasn't crazy or outcast, she was seen as the perfect girl-next-door. Yet, after certain things, grudges grew and whispers became venomous.

"They all say it." She mumbled, sipping on her latte, hurt. "I _want_ to laugh about it. I just can't."

"…Betty." Jug muttered, putting his hand on the table and tapping the wood with his fingers, "The people who call people names are dicks. They're… Boring lumps of grey matter who would never be interesting, not in their wildest dreams. They call me some future school shooter, a virgin dunce, a lame dog, Gerard Way wannabe- the list goes on. If… These useless ass hats could give me a name half as good as Crazy Cooper, I'd be pretty content. And who even gives a shit about what they say."

She gave a half smile.

"…I guess what I mean to say is, no, you're not crazy."

Her fingers slid onto Jug's thigh, purposefully, and he felt prickles run through his body. Oh, god, she touched him. It was this nice, thanking, reassuring touch… Platonic, sweet, it brought to his mind the imagery of soft daisies and ruby red lipstick. His thighs felt weak. She _WAS TOUCHING HIM. SHE STILL IS-_ Jug's mind blanked, before he felt the hand rub back and forth, an innocent action that meant to give the message ' **Thank you, friend** ' but to the ebony haired male spoke in waves ' **fuck she's giving me electric vibes** '. He could see neon and fluoro colors flashing, and he stared at the delicate hand, before reaching for his drink hurriedly.

God, Oh fuck- it was at that moment that Jughead was entirely confused. What did it mean?

He looked at the hand to the eyes of the owner, where she smiled, "Thank you. I guess I get absorbed with what they say."

"I can't blame you."

She slowly pulled away, smiling, whilst Jughead internally screamed at himself to grab that hand and put it anywhere on his body: that feeling of comfort and warmth and electricity was addictive. "Hey," Betty smiled, seeming to brush the previous angst away. "Don't judge me!" She called out, grabbing her phone. Jug quirked his brows, before it finally made sense. She slid close to his side, throwing her arms in the air in front of both of them, opening her phone to … the camera.

Jughead stared at her for a moment, "Really?"

"Don't judge! Come on! Have you ever taken one?"

"I mean- who … Hasn't-" God it went from awkwardly nice to just awkward in a second. Jug chewed on the inside of his gums before turning to face the phone, smiling awkwardly.

"Done-" the flash went off, Jughead blinked a bit, thelight unflattering on his poor eyes. "Oh-" Betty must have felt the same because she immediately groaned. "Shoot-" But she began to laugh, heartily, "Not a good idea, perhaps."

"Probably not." Jughead smirked, staring at the side of her face. The low light made it just possible to see her large eyes staring off into the distance, her smile bright and gleeful, her skin soft- her hair shining- her left hand was then placed on his knee, a comforting feeling that left his smile plastered on lightly.

Suddenly, there was a flash, and Jughead winced again, "Betty, god damn it-"

"Sorry! Candid shot!" She grinned to herself, waving her phone triumphantly, before placing it back by Jug's. "I'll send it to you if you want it." It was kind of… Nice, Jughead thought, remembering that Betty was this playful and fun with Archie, Kevin and Veronica. She wouldn't do this if she didn't feel good with him, would she? He thought this, maybe a little bit happy, before sinking back into his seat, smiling at her. Although he knew that he was practically babysitting her, he couldn't deny that it felt nice to be liked and to know that she wasn't awkward near him.

"Sure-" Definitely. Yes. God. This was too much, too much fun, too much niceness, too much goodness. It didn't feel real. He knew that when she went home, he would return to a house that was not his- and that he would have to be left alone with a reality that he didn't enjoy. The misery must have showed on his face, because Betty soon nudged him.

"Hey," He turned to her abruptly, putting on a confused act, "What's up, Jughead?"

"Oh? Nothing. Just hungry is all. Haven't had anything since breakfast."

"You can't lie. Not to friends." She insisted, that caring voice striking his ears. It put a lump in his throat, a lump that was often there.

He struggled to find the words, but strung a few together, "I guess… Things aren't the best at home." And that's all he would say. It was no secret at Riverdale High that Jughead came from a 'broken family', where his mother and sister had left, his father was jobless and a drunk… But that was it. Nothing else, but still, the rumors cut, and students were ruthless on the North side. He knew that Betty had heard all the rumours, that Jughead was a serpent, he used drugs, he'd killed a woman, he was a freaky little gangster and his dad had killed all the women in his family and fuck- thinking about it all made his veins burn. But she obviously didn't believe them.

Jughead clutched the edges of the table tightly, mouth pursed shut. Betty's eyes burned with sympathy, she slowly reached out her warm hand and clutched Jug's cold ones, tightly holding his fingers. There seemed to be an ignition of scolding fire burning his skin, he stared at the fingers for a second before looking back at his coffee. "…I'm here for you. We all are." She reassured him, yet, he'd heard it before. He'd heard it all before.

But in reality, he knew it wasn't true.

How could anyone be there for him, especially when he knew the truth about everything- that his dad was from the South and was branded by the Serpents- it was something dark that had him feeling some seething anger deep in his heart. "Thanks, Betty." Yes, she was nice, she didn't treat him like shit- but if she knew, it'd put her off. It'd have to.

The nachos came, and like a whirlwind, the two hungry teens finished them off with enthusiasm. They spoke about school, about the weather- and repeated their rhetoric about Alice Cooper. Yet before Jughead could even edge back onto Polly without seeming too sickly keen to know more. And it wasn't with some weird, sadistic desire to hear about Polly, it was more of wanting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

And it wasn't wrong either- it was what Jughead did. He figured out mysteries.

The music was harsh, angry and sad and happy and frustrated, a weird hypocritical mix that struck at Jughead with each passing chord.

They slid away from the table, to the dance floor, where a crowd was already spilling in. "Come on, Jug!" Betty shouted over the sound, eyes rolling as Jug's face contorted in discomfort. "Are you too scared to dance?"

"It's not my thing."

Immediately, she gripped his hands, tugging and tugging until he was at her mercy and they were both engulfed in the crowd. Jughead didn't want to lie, he was telling the truth. Dancing wasn't his thing- people weren't his thing- being surrounded by moving, hot bodies was _not his thing_. But Betty was smiling as she rocked to the beat, listening to the lyrics that shot at Jug like a bullet. He had to admit this was his kind of music, and he enjoyed this company- he enjoyed that moment, ignoring the jumping, swaying bodies and only focusing on one.

Yes, he meant to watch the band and listen intently and get lost in the beat, but he found himself constantly turning to look at the blonde haired woman beside him. She was staring at the stage, smiling, taking in the lyrics and the rhythm intently, as if she could miss a single strum of the guitar and everything could be lost.

She was gorgeous.

* * *

"That was fun." She gleamed as they emerged back into the air of Riverdale, smiling broadly. Jug followed her, catching her contagious grin. "Thanks for coming-"

"It was… Really fun." He assured her, eyes stuck on her. "It's a shame it ended this soon."

Betty nodded, looking a little sad, "I know. I wish I could stay out longer but… Mom is expecting me back in an hour."

Pity, Jughead feebly thought, hands diving into his pockets. "Ah, …"

"You can… Walk me home, though," She suggested, unsure, before laughing goofily, "I mean, we're kind of walking the same way _anyway_ \- But, I mean, we can walk together-"

" _together_."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"Exactly."

It was silent as the two of them stared at their feet, beginning to realize that… Something was going on. There was definitely something that made Jughead want to stay, and there was definitely something that made Betty… Blush. "Well, we should start walking, it's getting a bit dark."

As they walked through town and down the various streets, Jughead and her walked in total silence, awkward and thinking. All Jug could think about was this new person, this figure that stood beside him, the one that seemed a stranger to him even though he'd known her for years. She was this new blank slate. She wasn't this pristine thing, and he couldn't agonise over that point enough.

She was this dark… lonely… Sad… Happy… Smart… Beautiful thing that was so complicated and had so many gorgeous, fucked layers that he hadn't even found yet- she was like this ruby red rose, countless petals overlapping and confusing the eye.

And everything about her was electricity. The way she looked into his eyes (how could Archie not have been taken over by them?), the way her fingers felt as she gripped his thigh nonchalantly, the way she swayed to the music and seemed to remain visible in the darkness of that room- "…Are you free again, tomorrow?" She asked quietly as the crossed a road.

"Me? No." Jughead sighed, "I'm so busy. As a popular, football playing jock with tonnes of money, tonnes of friends and tonnes of family, I'm so swamped."

She laughed, "Fair enough. I forgot that as the stable Betty who's best friends with the IT girls Cheryl and Josie, I'm always going to parties and hanging out with the inner circle of the Riverdale Elite."

"Wow, maybe we'll see eachother tomorrow then, anyway?"

"Oh, definitely," Betty laughed, before awkwardly repeating herself, "…But are you busy?"

"Betty, God, no." Jughead stared at her with a 'duh' look, "If it weren't for you I'd be playing Archie's video games and writing all day."

"Sounds fun-"

"My mind would turn to mush."

She laughed at the thought, staring at her feet before looking back at Jug. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was so entrancing. "…It's not annoying, is it? Seeing me… For like the third time in three days?"

Well… Perhaps Jug would have been annoyed if Betty was a typical cardboard cut out of the average, rosy Riverdale IT person. But she wasn't. He began to grow a wonky smile, "No, man, I'm having a lot of fun. A lot."

"I'm glad." She giggled, cheeks bright red, a flush of mulberry against pale flesh. Suddenly, his throat was dry, an uneasy reminder that she was definitely making him feel weird. Was it guilt? Guilt that he'd actually only hung with her to 'babysit' her? Or was it lust? Or maybe it was a craving to see more, hear her more, feel her more?

Before they could reach her house, there was more silence- but a comfortable one. They were lost in their thoughts, tired and still felt the ghost of the guitar rhythm in their bones. Jughead was preparing his goodbyes, before a warm hand gripped his wrist.

He was stopped in his footsteps, turning to see Betty shyly holding onto his jacket loosely, "Uh?"

"S-…Sorry." She fumbled, tugging him closer by a step, "Maybe I just don't want to go back into that house… To hear about Polly or to be driven closer to the edge by mom and dad, or- maybe I just like this …this…" Betty, the skilled master of words, struggled to find any, "… _us_ … But… I really enjoyed today. And I don't… _want it to end._ "

He had to swallow a few times, using his free hand to run a hand through his hair, unintentionally tugging his beanie off. Licking his lips, Jug was at a loss for words or actions. What could he do? The smith of imagination, of plans, was flustered. Taking it as a sign of embarrassment and rejection, Betty released his wrist immediately, humiliated. "…Ah-"

"No-" Jug quickly grabbed her wrist instead, his heart beating hurriedly and in a state of panic, "…I mean… It's ... This- what this is, this day it's - going on… Hiatus," Her eyes twinkled at the concept, a smile playing on her rosy lips, "…To be continued when sleep, food and water replenishes us."

But it was obvious neither could convince themselves of this argument.

Yet, they would have to. Betty's fingers began to tangle themselves in Jug's, entwining into a silent promise.

 _Tomorrow… Tomorrow we'll see each other… And it'll be wonderful._

" ** _Betty?_** " Came a growl. They both broke apart, staring at the white picket doll house that loomed ahead. Standing by the door was a greying, stocky man- Betty's dad. While Jug hadn't heard much about him from either Betty or Archie, his stomach dropped in unease. This man couldn't be this silent figure watching Polly break down, watching the demonic, controlling action's of Alice, innocently standing by… In fact, as he stood by the door, having only uttered Betty's name once, he knew this silence that enveloped all three was threatening enough.

An insidious, odious effect.

Betty stood, still, freaked and unnerved, "…I'll… text you, okay?"

"…Yeah…"

She ran over to the house, disappearing as her father gently guided her inside. He spared Jug one last, look- a look that spoke not just one word of warning, but an entire novel of danger, caution, hatred and worry.

* * *

You look so tired, unhappy  
Bring down the government  
They don't, they don't speak for us  
I'll take a quiet life  
A handshake of carbon monoxide  
\- Radiohead


	3. Jughead's Leather

I'm a slow motion accident  
Lost in coffee rings - and fingerprints  
I don't - wanna feel - anything  
But i do  
And it all comes back to you  
\- Frou Frou

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Jughead's leather.**

Jughead shared a short dinner with Fred, unable to speak enthusiastically. Each word seemed lacklustre of any sureness, any glee. He simply picked at the pasta with his fork whilst leaning on his fist, mumbling a reply. "What's up, Jug?" Fred finally asked.

But what was wrong? He'd had the most … _amazing day_. His fingers buzzed, his thighs burned for that same, soft touch, his mind was spinning and he was eager to just shut his eyes and open them again to a new day. Yet he stared at Fred for a second before shrugging, "Just tired." There was so much more to that- His stomach was doing flips, his mind spinning, his knees jelly, he was unable to keep any conversation straight! But why? He wanted to see her again. No denying it. And it was confusing him, it was sending him into this bittersweet sense of happiness. But what was this happiness? It felt wrong. For years, she'd been this perfect rose: touch her if you thought you could EVER deserve her and she'd wilt.

Jug sucked on the inside of his gums before shoving a mouthful of ravioli in his mouth, Fred smiled in acknowledgement. But it was obvious Betty wasn't that perfect rose. She was a complicated human! And he liked it. And He definitely wanted to see her laugh again, that's all he could say. The older man put it down to Jughead maybe catching a cold, it was winter after all.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Fred asked cautiously.

"Yeah." He replied nonchalantly. "Thanks for dinner, it was delicious."

As Jughead climbed into the shower, washed himself, and jumped into bed, his mind was buzzing with the activities of that day.

Either when his eyes gazed at the ceiling or were shut tight, he could only think of the smiles and the laughs and the grins- the electric touches, the gentle bumps, the sad admissions and giggling gasps- "…" It was consuming him. The excitement of that day was settling onto him, compressing him like the blanket over his body.

Yet whenever he attempted to look at Betty's window, he was disappointed with the endless darkness: everything was dark. His room, outside, and especially, Betty's window. She was probably fast asleep. Even with nothing to look at, his eyes resisted the tug of sleep to gaze and cling on to the concept that meters away, she was there.

Perhaps the very idea that they hadn't really been apart at all since Archie left should have pissed Jughead off. He'd never gone this long without someone pissing him off for just being there. And obviously, he wasn't. He couldn't even pretend he was pissed (with her). In fact… He was exhilarated, recounting each electrifying moment that shocked his skin.

He felt as if he were a dog, tail wagging, tongue hanging from his excited mouth, unable to calm, only able to get worked up thinking of their day chasing a ball they'd never catch. He enjoyed today, he enjoyed pretending. He enjoyed pretending that everything was non-existent with her: there was no Serpents, no dad, no broken family- just her and her eyes and her laughter and her grin and her sheer friendliness.

He didn't know what to call this, he wasn't sure. But his hand felt shaky, numb and ghostly from where she'd clutched at it- and it didn't hurt, it was an exhilarating sensation. "…" He swallowed audibly, forcing himself to roll to the other side, shutting his eyes.

God what was this?

He wanted answers. Three days ago, he wouldn't really have considered Betty a friend, an acquaintance, sure. But now? God, he couldn't see her ever see her taking the back seat in his life ever again. It would be weird for Archie and Veronica to return, to launch back into their life where Jughead and Betty would never intercept, never chat, never speak.

The very thought of them just returning to the mundane setting of Pop's, where Archie would discuss music, be sweet, nice- kind- and Veronica would be sassy, loud, funny- kind- and Betty would speak quietly and sweetly and would hide that shine that seeped from her very pores from Jughead and never ever shine the way she should- Jughead wouldn't be able to deal with it. He rolled around in the sheets, unable to escape the thoughts in his mind that were kicking his head viciously.

He could just imagine them sitting back in that fluoro stained booth, drinking their milkshakes, eating their crispy, endless chips, chatting as if nothing in their lives were wrong. Pop's was a place where all five of them could ease into sweet nothings, as if the warping of life was non existent. If things were too bad, they'd spill over, but rarely. Archie would sit there, football jacket over Ronnie's shoulders, his arm a scarf by her neck, them leaning into one another, oozing lust and love. He'd smile, his pale cheeks flushed, teeth flashing. She would smile, face the epitome of grace and style and beauty: her toothy smile flashing, eyes shut in peace. They'd discuss New York for a few weeks, maybe- not on purpose- but the conversations would lead there.

And Betty? Jughead could imagine her sitting there, resting her chin on her hand, staring at the two of them, smiling. She was too nice to say anything, perhaps she just didn't want to say it either: that she had her problems, she needed to speak about them, she was going to go crazy if she didn't get help -help- _help- **help**_ … But there seemed to be this tradition of hiding secrets, hiding them from everyone in Pop's because the five of them knew Pop's was too sacred when all five were together. As if each of them were the prophets of Pop's, Jug thought with a sarcastic huff.

But he could just see her sitting there, and knowing that she had all this pain and all this happiness- he wouldn't be able to sit there and watch that. He'd- God- He'd- ….He'd swipe the milkshakes onto the ground, the chips onto Ronnie and Archie's laps, ignoring the shocked gasps- he'd climb onto that table, he'd grab Betty's coat collar and tug her up and-

…What would he do?

Cautiously, Jughead placed two fingers to his lips. Would he do that?

…Definitely not.

And why? He'd spoken to her for … Two days. It seemed so ridiculous to feel so strongly and protective of her. But that's not true- he'd known her for years- it was just now that he was finally seeing her… _He was really looking at her properly._

God this was fucking confusing! But maybe it wasn't. Jughead sighed, sitting up and throwing his legs over the bed. He'd go for a bit of a walk, just clear his head. Throwing on his jeans and his bomber jacket over his singlet, he pulled on Archie's boots, grabbed his laptop before making his way downstairs.

His stomach was too jumpy to eat any leftovers, his head too busy to lie or sit still. He felt like a blade of grass swept up in a monsoon, thrown left and right, unable to find any peace. But what he could do was take in some cold, chill air, he could do some writing as well- just take his mind off of everything just for a second, let him write some fantasy world where everything made sense and feelings were under control.

The Andrew's backyard was quite big, it boasted a garden in spring that would bring along a choir of birds and bees. In the snow, the small maples, early in their youth, were coated with a dusting of shaved ice. The moon shone through the thin clouds, a blue haze hiding the truth and allowing the eye to believe there were little diamonds shining on each leaf, each blade of grass, each dead petal and inch of dirt. It was gorgeous.

Jughead really did enjoy winter. His boots crunched in the snow before sinking to his ankles, yet as he walked up the slope of the yard and found the table set forgotten and neglected for a few week he couldn't help but feel a bit lost. Everything was confusing, it was all a mess. He didn't know how to feel on … _so many things_.

All he could do was write.

* * *

He'd written for a few hours before his eyes felt that welcome tug of tire, his body so tired, his brain screaming and urging him to shut the laptop and to just sleep- and he welcomed that feeling. He still had so many questions, so many feelings, that he didn't understand but at least he could sleep

Before he could even manage to think of the previous day's antics, he'd fallen fast asleep.

When he woke up, he felt as if he were facing withdrawal symptoms from a lack of coffee. "Ugh…"

"Jug." Came Fred's voice slowly making it's way into his ears. The young teenager cracked an eye open, pulling himself from the bed slowly. The older man look at him, hands on the door frame, a look of guilt moulding the miserable words, "Jug, wake up, come on."

"What's up?" He croaked, quickly checking the time on his phone. Fuck, eight? He'd rather sleep in a few more hours. God, he hated waking up. Sitting up slightly and feeling the entire world spin in his head, he grumpily licked his lips. "What's wrong?" He repeated. Fred wouldn't just wake him up for nothing, "…Fred?"

"You've got a visitor." He hesitantly said, "It's your dad."

Now Jughead was awake. The word 'dad' had slapped him in the head and kicked him in the balls. His eyes sharpened, gut wrenching itself into a knot, "what?" He hadn't spoken to the man in a few weeks. After a fairly vicious argument of Jughead's future, the two had parted ways with a 'ban' on Jug to never set foot in the South again. It sounded ridiculous, but that's how it went down. His father had seriously threatened him with an ass whooping if he ever set foot out of the North until he said so. OF course, his ass getting hit wasn't enough to scare Jug off: what deterred him from ever going near him was the sheer anger and humiliation at his dad.

He wasn't a kid. He didn't need an 'ass whooping'.

"Yeah. He's here."

"Fuck- I mean," Jughead sighed, rolling back into bed with a groan, grabbing at his hair in tired frustration. His entire body ached as it moved, screaming to be stretched out properly and left in a warm bed. Fred knew the complicated relationship Jug had with his dad. A love-hate one. A very weird one that not even he fully understood. But he tried to, and he stared at the young teenager in sympathy, "No- I mean- _ARGH_. Fuck."

"It's okay. I tried to invite him in… He said he's waiting in his truck. If you want, I can turn him away-"

Jughead shot up, glaring at the older male immediately, "No- I… I have to talk to him. I can't avoid him forever." He didn't mean to look or sound so rude, and they both understood that. Staring apologetically at the floor, it was silent for a second.

"True. I'll… Pack you a thermos of coffee then, you'll need it."

Fred disappeared with a dejected look, perhaps wishing Jughead wasn't caught up in the shit that was FP's life. He had, after all, kick started the pattern of unemployment (or so he believed). But Jughead often thought that it would have happened at some point. His dad was a serpent. A criminal. And… While sometimes what Fred did make him mad, he wouldn't ever hate him.

He'd done so much for Jug.

Jug quickly tugged on his jeans, shirt, bomber jacket and boots before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs. Fred stood by the door, holding a metal thermos. "…One more chance. I can turn him away. We can … Go to Greendale and watch a movie instead and… I dunno..." He threw his hands weakly in the air, desperately trying to change his mind, "you can eat as much popcorn as you want."

The thought pulled his lips into a smile. Yeah- it would be nice. Just have some time to himself: free movie, free ticket and a warm room, just a few hours to veg away. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself that luxury. He had to see his dad: he couldn't avoid him forever.

"…As much as I want to, I can't." Fred nodded understandingly. He patted Jug on the shoulder, a warm gesture meant to wish him luck, but Jughead felt nervous and uneasy about it. While he loved his dad, the two of them never seemed to click.

Pulling the door open, Jug could see his truck sitting on the road in front of the house. Lo and behold, FP was there. His arm hung out of it, a cigarette between his two fingers, eyes staring into the snow below them. He looked like good ol' dad. Hair slicked back, stubble growing, and a hard face. Maybe ten years ago, he'd have been a heart throb who could withhold the trials of alcohol and hard work: but now, to Jug, he looked tired. And worn.

Jughead's stomach clenched. Shivers went down his spine.

He made the slow walk.

"Boy!" Called his dad, "Nice to see you. Lookin' good! See Fred's treatin' you all right." He sounded grateful and maybe a bit haughty, which made sense. He didn't HATE his son- he loved him, Jughead often had to remind himself of that, but he knew his dad loved him. He just… Had a way of showing it. But, FP was bitter about Fred always being Jug's hero. Even in the past, Jug would rely on Fred to help him, whether it was girl trouble or even wood-shop advice or help with cooking and basic stuff that FP should have been there for. And he was a bit bitter about it.

Jughead smirked, "He makes a better burger than you."

"See you've still got your humour." He yelled from across the drive way, a sneer forming on his sarcastic face.

The two of them shot smirks at each other. It had to happen sooner or later. They needed to talk.

"Jug-"

The young teenager twisted around in horror- the shock almost tripping him. It was Betty, standing on her own driveway, coated in her puffy jackets and big boots. "Morning!" She smiled, "…Are you… Ready to hang? Or- …" She stared at FP, looking back at Jug with a weird look on her face, "Do you have other plans?"

"Uh-" Oh fuck. Fuck. That's right.

Fuck. Fuck he forgot. Fuck.

He felt sick. If anything, he wanted to throw FP the bird and just run away with her, fuck he really did- but he couldn't. Things had to be sorted out. Hanging with Betty would just be another day in la la land, where things were great and he felt great and she was great and everything was _great_ but where reality was a biting, horrible little monster ready to strike Jug whenever it could. And… He could hang out with her tomorrow.

And it was too late to blow FP off anyway.

His face hardened.

"Oh, boy-" FP laughed, "Alice Cooper's daughter?"

Betty turned to the older man again, giving a small, kind wave. She ignored the laughter, "Jughead… Who is that?"

"…That's my dad."

"Oh…So…" She blushed, realizing what was happening, "Sorry- Oh _God,_ sorry, you have plans."

"No- Betty-"

"No, it's okay!" She smiled, "I should probably hang with Polly today." Jughead's stomach soured, realizing that was a bullshit lie. From what Archie said, Polly was locked away. She was alone, fuck, and Jughead was alone and now he felt shit- so shit. "…Text me later?" She mumbled, backing away awkwardly as FP's cackles got louder and louder.

"Y-Yeah- I will," Jughead stammered, wishing he could jump over the fence and just stop her from retreating- he wanted to stop her and chat with her and just… disappear. Fuck… He was embarrassed, humiliated- he wanted to sink below the snow and hide. He felt as if everything were pouring in on him, the sands of family and humiliation and girls and tire and hunger and anger- He couldn't look at her anymore. He stormed down to the truck, climbing in and slamming the door.

"Drive." He growled at his father.

"Well, doesn't this little pup have an attitude-"

"Just drive."

With a laugh, the truck soon pushed the road behind them, the little bubble of peace and beauty he'd found popping and disappearing.

* * *

By the time they returned to the old trailer park, Jughead was fuming. His cheeks were bright red. His lips a thin, pale line. "Come on, son, are you and the Cooper girl getting it on-" Jughead threw him a furious look, to which his father simply laughed. "I'm only joking. But you seem pretty protective. Nice job, was beginning to think you didn't know how to use that," He pointed his finger emphatically at Jug's crotch.

Fuck, as much as he loved him he hated him! He was in no mood to laugh, no mood to humour his father who was obviously just trying to goad a response from his son. They hadn't spoken in weeks. Not that it was really Jug's fault.

His father HAD given the damning ban of 'you can't come here unless I tell you to, Boy.'.

"What do you want?" He growled, slamming the truck door open before jumping out and slamming it shut.

"We have business."

They both stalked into the trailer, climbing onto the sunken couches covered in old flannel blankets. Jughead took a second to swallow the last of the coffee before taking a deep breath. He didn't hate his father. His father was just choosing to be a dick, trying to be funny, some sick desire to bond with him. "…Put your phone down, boy."

Jughead was in the middle of typing a semi-desperate apology to Betty. He knew the sombre tone well, knew it wasn't wise to ignore it. But he couldn't get the image of Betty's humiliated, sad eyes out of his head. In an obvious, visible act of frustration, he shoved his phone between his thigh and the arm of the couch.

His father caught the furious glare, and he lowly called out Jug's name, "…Jughead… I know you're pissed. But I'm not here to… Push you away and punish you. This business was coming, you knew it, I knew it, and we're here to organise it."

"Now? You couldn't even get in touch with me before? Maybe… I dunno- a little warning?" Jughead snapped. Suddenly, he was a hot mess, unable to simmer down, "Hey, son, haven't spoken to you in weeks since you banned me from home- I've got a job for you to do!" He couldn't stop the rage in his gut. He'd tried to shove all of this down, and he was glad he could get it out now- but all he wanted to do was punch things and scream and cry and shout and shove!

Fuck this! His father didn't get shit. He was a selfish idiot who'd chased his sister and mother away- and now he was shoving Jughead out of his own life, a life Jughead had tried to build for himself beside his father.

"Hey!" Jughead shrunk immediately. "You think I enjoy this? You know why I had to turn you away! You think you're some big guy- coz you've got your …" FP fumbled for words, sickened and twisting the sentence out, "Tattoo that you're a … tough guy now? That you can handle life as a Serpent? That it's in- y-your interest?! BULL. SHIT."

"Dad-"

"Look at me, Jug," FP insisted. And for the first time in weeks, Jug did. His eyes searched the weather worn face, the dry skin, the salt and peppered stubble, the blood-shot eyes and unkempt hair. He looked tired. He looked worn. He looked angry and scared and frustrated, "Do you think I want this life for you?"

It was silent as the two of them breathed heavily. Jug tried to collect his thoughts, tried to craft a response. He had joined the Serpents. The rumours that had circulated school were true. All he'd wanted was a life with his dad, where things made sense, where he belonged, where he was safe- He didn't regret it.

"Dad- I had no choice-"

"Son, I was in jail for two months- I'd driven over the limit, I'd been on some weed- you knew I was getting out-" FP's tone was slowly climbing from sad to furious. And Jughead felt mad. _He_ felt furious. How dare he, how dare this fucking man try and guilt Jug for what he'd done.

"And for seven weeks I was alone, I had nothing- no food, no gas, no water- nothing! The Serpents kept me fed!" Jug stood up, vehemently slapping his father emotionally, "They helped me in a time where I didn't even want to get any help!"

Now it was FP's time to stand up. The two were in a battle of words and physique, chests puffed out and fists tightly clenched. "And you think a life in the Serpent's is going to be gratifying for your entire life?! _You think MY LIFE is so glamorous and nice and sweet and full of unity and solidarity and safety?!_ " He gave a bitter, empty laugh, "Get fucked."

"No-" Jughead gave a weak, one handed shove, wanting to feel the strike of a hand against his face- he wanted to feel retaliation. He didn't want to hear this, "You get fucked. For years, you've left me alone-"

"You've never been alone." FP hissed, "…You can't blame me for what's happened. Yes- I admit, I've made some mistakes. Fuck, a lot of mistakes. I'm a drunk and a drop kick but it's… It's not just on me!" He slapped his chest, voice hitching. " _YOU THINK I ENJOY THIS?!"_

The room shook, the empty glasses clinking as everything faced the vibrations of their fury. Jughead swallowed. "…I think you enjoy not getting help."

It took a while before there was any kind of reply. "The Serpents got me when I was your age. I was … Lonely. Heart broken. Broke. And they made me into this thing. They play on every little negative thing in your life and they pervert all the good things and - …"

Jug's eyes filled with angry, furious tears, "I had nothing else-"

"Don't give me that bull, son. I gave the same reason. I had _no one. BOO HOO._ Let's forget Fred, who'd always been there. Let's forget your mother, who'd tried to hold my hand- and let's forget you, and …Jellybean…" His voice cracked. A deep breath, and the torrent continued, and it was twisting Jug's heart, "…I acted as if I had no one. But don't you dare do that. You have… Fred- and Archie- and … Mueller's son, that Lodge girl- Betty-"

Jug whispered tearfully, "Don't mention her-" It hurt to think of them, but especially Betty. There was a point to everything FP said, but he couldn't let it go. The feeling of the Serpent's brand, the leather jacket, the collective protection that he felt when he was riding with them and chatting with them and eating with them- it was addictive. He liked the dark underbelly of Riverdale: a true representation of what the town really meant to the common folk.

But how could he just brush the thought of Betty off after that? He swallowed.

But FP persisted, shaking his head pleadingly, "And you have _me_ \- and I'm trying to pull you out of a cycle with the Serpents."

He scoffed, blinking away the angry tears. "Then why am I here?"

Defeated, his father collapsed onto the couch, "I'm trying to save you from the group you think are your kin."

"What?"

"…You haven't been in the South for weeks now. People are talking. They think you've betrayed your **_KIN_** ," he laughed bitterly yet again, "to the North Siders. They don't think you deserve that ink or the leather."

"But…" Jughead grew toasty yet again, "It's not my fault- it's yours-"

"No, Jug. It's yours. You should never have picked this stupid thing up." FP snapped, a furious finger pointing at his son's face. "Now, I've tried to simmer things down. But I'm just one guy. So. We're going to hang together in the bar, we're going to have a drink, we're going to make a drug swap, we'll come back and leave- as if you are still our comrade."

…Usually, Jughead would think it was fine. That he was willing to do this. He enjoyed the fellow sardonic men and women, he liked the life that fit into a Ginsberg poem- but the reality was… They were willing to beat him up, willing to strip him away, just because he hadn't been there. He felt sick. He wanted to justify it, wanted to say he deserved it- he should have been there. But he'd be lying to himself. He was hurt.

FP must have seen it. He swallowed, squeezing his son's knee. It wasn't nearly as calming as Betty's hand. It definitely wasn't as comforting as Archie's awkward hugs. "…Jug." He mumbled, "I don't do this out of hate. I love you. I do, boy. And I don't want you to end up here, like this. I want you to live a clean life, where you go to uni far away, get married, have a family- where you publish your books and I can be a part of your life-" He faltered. "…I want to escape, too. And… Your school finishes in…"

"A semester." Jughead numbly muttered.

"…We can carry this on for a semester. You go to uni, I'll leave with you- we'll never look back. Fresh start for us."

The sound of it was good. He wanted to imagine a new life away from this shitty place. Jughead made a face, though, finding it hard to believe.

"…I'm… I'm serious. I want to … See your mother and Jelly and live together …"

He swallowed down a lump, wishing hard that it already was a reality. But he could hear the desperation in his old man's voice, whispering, "…I'd like that."

* * *

The two of them arrived at the White Wyrm, which was filled with serpents already at the early age of ten am. It must have been too long for many to even fake a smile at Jug. The moment they saw him, drowning in the leather jacket, they stared uneasily at him, glaring at the two men. Yet, like Jug's father had insisted before they'd exited the truck, he acted as if everything was fine. Just get into the bar.

When they did, he could see many young teenager's his age who he recognised, a few gave sheepish smiles, some looked hardened and unwilling to let go of the collective mentality. "'Ey!" Came a shout as they entered the bar. "What's this Northy boy doing here? Lost his privilege?! Forgot where Pop's was-"

"Maybe this little boy is hungry for a beating!" Came a cackle.

Jug swallowed, face steely and unwilling to show the anger and fear. He'd definitely rather be with Betty.

"OI!" FP shouted over the heckles. A hard slap struck Jug's back, "This little shit isn't here for any other reason than to see his Serpent brethren!" Silence, yet the leader of the pact continued, "He's been gone awhile… For good reason, carrying on my business under the noses of the North sider fools!"

There was a buzz of confusion. Jughead tried to hide his. He didn't know this lie- how could he carry it on in any convincing way? "We've been expanding the Jingle Jangle," FP explained, further. Oh. Fuck. Jughead knew a lot about Jingle Jangle. Half the football team was caught using it at Cheryle's last party. It was definitely the popular party drug. "into North territory. You think it's a coincidence that Juggy has been in the north and our sales have been successful without police speculation?"

There were nods. People were unsure, before they found themselves convincing that- yeah- that's exactly why Jug was there. It was time for Jug to speak, "I know you think I turned my back on you all, but I had to disappear. I'm friends," God, he hated himself, "With the Sherriff's son, with the spoilt off spring of prominent figures- I'm making it happen for us- A Serpent never betrays his own!"

There was a sudden roar of support, 'HERE HERE!' was the common shout as drinks were lifted in the air. Gazing back at the younger members, they all gave nods and 'whoo's', overjoyed. And it made him sick. It made him think back to what FP said: that he'd always had his dad, Archie- Betty- Kevin… Hell, even Veronica. There were times where he'd been moody and mad, and he'd never been abandoned (hell, he'd never been threatened with death) by them). But he felt sick at what he'd gotten himself into.

He gazed back to his father, who nodded, "Get to the backroom. We have a job to do."

* * *

The day was long, cold and arduous. A small collection of Serpent men and women had done a large swap of drugs- the Jingle Jangle (which was, in Jug's opinion, the most fucking idiotic name for a drug). Climbing into inconspicuous pick up trucks, small cooler's and boxes filled with pouches of white powder and pills hidden under fishing hooks and rods. It wasn't Jug's first time carting drugs from one corner of the town to another- but every time he was confronted with that sight, he felt as if they were surely going to be caught. But that was the exciting feeling.

Jughead went with FP, while the others found their own cars. It took hours to take all the crates to Greendale through the back streets, unload it, and come safely back to the White Wyrm, only to reload the rest and drive back again, unload it, and come back. By the time they'd returned the sky was dark, black with no sign of the stars or moon in sight. Jughead was tired, sick of the road and sick of his dad's radio. If he had to hear Leonard Cohen again, he'd tear his hair out.

The two of them were busy in FP's truck, animatedly talking at lengths about Riverdale high. It was weird. Carting drugs around Riverdale was actually a good bonding experience, Jug thought sarcastically. But it was. Jug would definitely rather have been warm and beside a certain blonde, ignoring the drama and the reality- but he knew that today had to happen. And for some sick reason, he was glad it did. He had his answers, he had the final shove away from a future with the Serpent's, and.. He'd managed to connect with his father. It sounds like some 'sobby' kind of conclusion to a weird day, but it was true.

They spoke during the rides. What would have been tense and filled with anger, they vented it together- they managed to speak and complain and find humour in their situation. While Jughead avoided any talk about love, relationships, girls and sex, he did manage to talk and explain his friends.

"…They refer to me as the Creepy Wednesday Manson-" FP laughed at Jug's unimpressed face, but he continued on, "…Which sounds _hilarious to you_ , but to me just proves that I'm … Not Normal. And that I'm a weirdo."

"Yeah, kid," FP nodded with a lopsided grin. It was similar to Jug's, "You are weird." Ow. "Incredibly fucking weird. And I can't believe you think it's a bad thing! Boy, all I can say is that the world is becoming increasingly shit… You have to fit a mould to fit in, a mould to be successful and I want you to break that- I … I'm proud of who you are-"

"Dad- Please-"

"No, son, I know we… Fight. A lot. But I need you to know this. I. Am. Proud. Of. You."

Jug groaned, "You're embarrassing."

"I'm doing my job then." FP grinned to himself, "What time is it?"

Jug grinned before pulling his phone out- "It's… Eleven O…Nin-" His eyes darted to the list of notifications. The missed calls, the various messages not just from Archie, but from Veronica, Kevin, Betty- Even Fred!

One message shot out to his eyes immediately.

Archie Andrews – _Dude, answer the fucking phone. Betty needs your help._

"Fuck."

"What?" FP hummed, "Did your ass get dumped?"

"Uh…"

"Oh- man, sorry."

"No- God, no-" Jughead fumbled, unlocking his phone and hurriedly messaging the group chat, ignoring his curious father. What could have happened? In his mind, he felt that maybe someone had had a heart attack- Fred? Or maybe Archie was in hospital, but why would they act as if the world was ending if they couldn't reach him?

' _What's happened?'_

Immediately, the three of them replied.

Veronica – _Betty went to a party with Josie and Cheryl. Everything was fine until something's happened, she started messaging weird things and I can't get her to answer and this is fucked- WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!_

Archiekins – _Dude, she's at Cheryl's signature 'end of semester' party. I thought we told you to keep Cheryl away from her!_

Kevin – _Guys, she's not messaging me anymore, I'm freaking out._

Jughead swallowed hard. "Fuck. Dad.. Fuck, dad, …" What should he do? He had to find her. He felt sick. He'd put his phone down for one day- he didn't mean for this to happen! Was this his fault? He couldn't breathe. God, it was his fault.

"What is it, son?" FP asked, "Talk to me!" He wasn't going to move til he'd said anything.

"Betty's in trouble- Can you take me to Cheryl's mansion?" Everyone knew where the Blossom's lived. His fingers trembled as he typed a quick _I'm going to get her now_ to the group chat.

The truck revved to life, squealing as it pulled out of the lot before speeding down the road. It was shocking to see that FP was actually willing to help. "Going now. Typical Cooper's," FP sighed, "Always in trouble."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Did he mean Polly?

The older man gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head, "It's a long story. Maybe one day when we aren't speeding through town." Honestly, Jughead would usually be interested in historic gossip, but now, he was worried. How could Cheryl have gotten to Betty? Through Josie? Would Josie willingly be the bridge between the lamb Betty and the lion Cheryl? Of course she would, Jug thought bitterly, she _was the Mayor's daughter_. They had their power, they knew what it was like to have money and to toy and to play with people. Whether Josie meant it or not, she'd fucked up bad.

 _I FUCKED UP BAD_ , Jug thought. He should have texted her, he should have told her he was going to come back and they could catch a coffee- he… Fuck. He slumped in the seat, his entire body feeling uneasy.

The ride was achingly long, but speedy. His dad was really doing him a solid, risking another shot in jail… For What, the safety of a Cooper? Jughead knew little about FP's relationship with Alice, but he knew how Alice felt about his family. Her sheer sense of disdain with the sight of him made it pretty obvious. "…What's happened to her?"

"I don't know. She went to Cheryl's… Bad move. That… Red headed…" Jug's mouth burned to swear, he wanted to unload a torrent of abuse, " _witch_ obviously thinks Betty's family is responsible for sending Jason away to boarding school. I think she's done something."

"Wouldn't put it past her to have that same cruel streak that her parent's do…" he grumbled to his son, "Sick freaks." They had the same, identical hatred of the rich and powerful Blossom's.

It was silent as Jughead went through the torrent of texts from Betty.

 **12:29pm : Hey, sorry, but I just got invited to a party. Do you want to come?**

 **2:35pm : Sorry :/**

 **5:12pm : If you're interested it's at Cheryl's. Sorry if I've upset you?**

 **7:49pm : Hey, look, I'm feeling a bit weird here. Can you please pick me up? It's gotten really cold.**

 **7:59pm : I don't feel very safe.**

 **8:37pm : Jet, Juggg come over here! Sooooo much fun!**

 **9:02pm : Jug plec hkelp.**

It had been two hours since that last message. His legs shook in impatience. Was she hurt? Drunk? Humiliated? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He was facing a torrent of abuse from the group chat (which he just couldn't fucking deal with at this moment, for fucks sake.), his father was being unnaturally kind and his stomach was twisting into a nice crocheted scarf of slimy guts. "She'll be fine, boy."

"I don't know. This is just… Fucked up. I feel like I'm in some rotten Joseph Conrad novel, facing the feral motif of 'human savages'. I- Fuck. God. What do I do when I find her?" He'd never really reached out to his father like this, but it felt good to just vent and desperately lean on someone.

His father pursed his lips. "If she's drunk or high, don't take her back to her place. I don't think Cooper will appreciate it. Maybe not Fred's. Take her back to the trailer- I won't be there tonight, I'll be out with the guys. But I'll have my phone on me."

"Really?" He seemed to have a bad history of 'keeping in touch'.

"Boy, …I know you take my words with a grain of salt, but… Trust me. Tonight, trust me, and you'll see."

Jughead nodded slowly, watching the giant mess of Blossom wealth approach the vehicle. The gates were lined with party lights, the house awake with gleaming lights and beating music. "What pieces of shit." FP spat, "They fuck over their workers and the poor so they can live like this?"

"sick." Jughead growled to himself.

"Come on, go- I'll wait out here-"

Jughead waited not a second longer, jumping out of the truck. He ran up the drive way, up to the giant front porch. There were teenagers leaning against the cold posts, laughing, making out and dancing to the music that was so loud and so overpowering- Jughead pushed forward, hearing the whispers and taunting calls of 'Goth fuckwit, come to ruin the night'.

Unmitigated wealth met his eyes. The front doors were wide open, the rugs a mess of mud and crushed snow, the wooden floor boards stamped with dirty foot prints and spilt alcohol.

"JUGGY IS HERE!" Yelled a footballer, some thick meat head who enjoyed shoving Jug into walls. Yet tonight, Jug couldn't give a shit, he stormed past the taller male, thumping into him (well, technically, Jughead was the one who was thumped, his strength couldn't compare), continuing into the next room. Yet cheers echoed through the house. The entire party was still on: music pumped from speakers in each room, alcohol was pouring, people were dancing and making out and laughing and arguing- it was a carnal mess. He saw a few people guffawing at the sight of the panicked Jug.

"Juggy!" Came a sickeningly cheerful call. Jughead twisted around to see Cheryl. She was in her red get up, hands on her waist, lips twisted into a plump smile, "What a pleasant surprise. You finally got Betty's texts! You know, she hasn't shut up about you for the past few hours." She chuckled, "Are you looking for-"

"Where is she?" Jughead snapped, "Cheryl, just tell me where she is."

She smiled tightly, "Well, someone's in a rush. Well, Juggy, you sad little boy, I'd love to answer you- but … After our last game of drinking and games, she's escaped my watchful gaze. I think she's enjoying herself."

"Cheryl- fuck-" Jughead was tempted to shove her to the ground in utter madness, his face carried a rotten scowl. It's not like he LOVED BETTY- But fucking hell. He was… Kind of responsible for her. As well as, she was a fucking human being who was vulnerable. And… He did like her. Whatever that SPECIFICALLY MEANT, he would figure out later. But he didn't want to see her in any bad situation.

"Hmm… Well, I did see her hanging beside Jake." Jake? The player Jake? Rotten, cruel, fuck-boi Jake? Jughead fumed, "Oh, don't be jealous!"

"Cheryl," He shoved a threatening finger at her, "one day someone is going to find it acceptable to give you what you really deserve, and they'll fucking deliver-"

"And what," She took a step further, grinning, ignoring the finger that was now poking between her cleavage, "And what… Pray tell… Do I deserve?"

The room voiced their 'ooo's' and laughter, but Jughead could only fume. He had to find her- he couldn't focus on this. All he could think of were the bedrooms- check the bedrooms.

He pushed past her, her laughter haunting his ears. The house itself was a maze, a rotten puzzle of oil paintings and gold and silver and hard chestnut wood and luxury- Each room was a bedroom, a bathroom or some sort of library (god, the fucking Blossom's DID NOT DESERVE ALL THOSE BOOKS!)- yet none held Betty. How could everyone just drunkenly ignore their morals? It was … Disgusting. But Jughead supposed that was the disgusting sheen of Riverdale: the beautiful, sweet town full of biblical care and Godly respect!

Bull shit! He knew the truth! There were those who trusted the hue of rosey perfection to hide their pride and their envy and their wrath and lust. There were people who were so desperate to drink, to fuck, to get high, to just have fun in this boring shitty place, they had to ignore their moral compass. Jughead's face was twisted in an angry snarl.

His heart hurt. Would he see her … in one of these rooms? With a man? If she was… Having a good time, sure, he'd… Let her do that, even if the actual thought made him pissed- and … If she was in trouble (and fuck he hoped not), he'd fucking launch himself in there. "Fuck…" He would never be able to look Archie in the eye's if something happened… He would never be able to look at Betty ever again. He let this happen. He should have been there! As the last door of the hall was opened and was only filled with two horny teenagers who hadn't even noticed him, he shut it and fell back slightly.

A sensation over took him: his lungs felt as if they couldn't take in any more air- his fingers felt as if they could scratch at his face until there was no more flesh left, his whole entire body felt as if it were on fire and that he should just- just- just collapse! Fuck- he couldn't find her. This house was too huge.

"Jug-" came a voice.

"Betty!" He gasped breathlessly, twisting to hope to see someone blonde and beautiful and a hundred percent Betty- but it was … Josie. He grit his teeth, "Whereisshe-"

"…Look- I'm sorry, I … I didn't know Cheryl would let this get so out of hand-"

"What get out of hand?!"

"This… Little revenge play on her. I heard some guys talk about where she was… We need to hurry." She gripped his wrist, tugging him down the stairs, down the halls, until they were outside in the snow. All the while, she explained what had gone down. "I was just trying to be nice. Cheryl said she didn't want her, so I said she should- I even messaged her. And Betty said yes, wondering if you could come and of course I say yes- and she came, without you- and everything was good, Cheryl was just so nice to her-" Jug rolled his eyes,

"Yeah, bullshit!"

"I know!" Josie looked guilty, ashamed of herself, "B-But then the alcohol comes out, and we start playing this stupid drinking game, and of course Betty and I didn't want to play so we stood up to go to the bathroom and then Cheryl told us to sit back down because we'd play something else- and… so we both began to drink- I think someone drugged her drink because she starts drinking and she's a mess- she's immediately falling over her feet, being…" She struggled to breathe as they quickly wondered through the backyard, wondering around the hot tub, around the naked idiotic teens who shivered in the cold air, "emotional- she kept moaning she was 'crazy Cooper' and wanted Polly and wanted you and wanted _Veronica and –_ well, you get it."

"What happened?"

"I went to get her some water. When I came back, she was gone. The next thing I know, you're here."

So she hadn't been missing for too long. The walk wasn't long. There was a gazebo that Jughead would have missed had it not been for Josie. It was hidden in the darkness, lit dimly by the lights of the receding mansion. If it had been a night under any other circumstances, he'd be enchanted by the beauty. But not now- it was a haunting get up of wood, metal and paint hiding something. His gut dropped. He could hear moans.

"Take it off-"

"No- N…No- No-"

"Come on, don't you trust me-"

"I d…on't – get…geroff-" There was a frustrated, angry sob wrenching itself from slurring, numb lips. Jughead froze, the voices becoming louder. As his eyes readjusted to the dark, he took a sharp breath, eyes burning with hatred. There was Betty Cooper leaning against one of the gazebo pillars, hair a mess and sweater off. She was clinging onto it for dear life as two large hands gripped her waist, attempting to tug her shirt off. There was Jake. He was good looking, the typical Greek God kind of guy. He was fit, he was funny, he was hot and charismatic- but fuck, he was dumb and shit.

This guy was pressing his body to hers, ignoring the fact she was obviously too out of it to focus or reply properly. "Come on… No one's here. Let's do it- I've always wanted to see a Cooper girl naked…"

"Oh fuck no!" Josie called. The dick clutched Betty tight.

"Excuse me, we're busy-" He angrily hacked at Josie. Yet the blonde shook her head, attempting to free herself feebly one last time in frustration.

" _Fuck_. No." Jughead growled, literally diving his entire body into the gazebo. Jake looked around, releasing the tired Betty who fell against the gazebo fence with a grunt. Jake twisted around, unable to see anyone in front of him. He looked like a hulking monster, dumb and furious and full of pent up lust and anger- Typically Jug wouldn't aim for a tall building-like body like his, but he hadn't even thought twice about jumping in.

"Who's that?" Jake hissed, unable to see Jug hiding in the shadows.

Jughead couldn't even reply. He jumped onto Jake, aiming a hard punch into his left eye. The tall jock tumbled to the ground, taking Jug with him. There was a shriek from Josie and a gasp from Betty, but he kept going. "You want to assault someone? You're fucked- Not fucking surprised-" Jughead growled, planting punch after punch. His whole soul burnt, he couldn't simply sit still- he had to keep going. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, of groans, of shrieks from Josie and his ragged breathing was all he could focus on.

Jake was two times his size, he could easily overpower Jug. But somehow he managed to overpower the goliath, somehow he managed to literally pummel his face into a bruised, cut mess, "Jughead-" Josie cried. But he would keep going. He'd done this before. Serpents always had a go at anyone who threatened their own: one time, he'd been shoved against the wall by some Goony- he'd regret it. A whole hoard of leather clad men and women tugged him away from Jug before beating him black and blue- with Jug gladly joining. It brought him some relief; as sick as it sounded.

He just couldn't get the image of the two out of his mind. Betty, who was so obviously out of it, pleading 'no' as this… disgusting… misogynistic… piece of _shit_ continually touched her, wanted to see her do more- wanted to hurt her- and these shitty 'RIVERDALE ELITE' would let it happen! He ignored the groans and cries of Jake, he ignored the pain in his fists- he just kept going. He wanted to see him bleeding out, he wanted to hear him crying like a little boy- he just wanted to hear him begging for it to end.

The next thing he knew, he was lifted off the ground- arms around his torso tugging him off and throwing him into the snow, Jughead let out a grunt as the cold shocked his heated flesh. A shaking, muscular figure stood above him, pointing a finger in a silent demand ' ** _STOP_** ', and instead of rising up and continuing, Jughead conceded, and was left breathing hard on his ass in the snow. "WHO ARE YOU?!" Josie screamed. Yet, FP stood there, heaving. He'd obviously run. And when Jughead looked around, he figured out how he'd seen them- a winding road was directly near where they were.

"I'm his dad." FP heaved, "Jeeze, I'm fucking proud." He laughed, "You did that? Nice job." He didn't have a love of rich dicks, and while FP probably had no idea what was going on, he knew Jughead had a reason to snap. He spat in the direction of Jake. "Jug… We're going. Betty," The young blonde jolted, staring at the male she barely recognised, "Come on, girly."

Josie spoke up, "…What do I do about Jake?"

As he tugged his son back to his feet, FP shrugged, "I don't give a shit. Call the ambulance. I can guarantee he'd rather lie than tell the truth about what happened, I'm betting."

"B-"

"Sweetie," FP growled, "Do you really think I give a shit about this piece of dirt? He's alive. He's breathing, he's even groaning- I'm taking my son and his friend home away from this mess."

Jughead swallowed. He was unable to even look at Betty, he felt such shame. The least he could do was take off his bomber jacket (he'd left his serpent's jacket in FP's truck, a smart move) and hand it to the shaking Betty. She practically climbed into it, wrapping it around her tightly. She swayed, both men reaching to her- yet Jug's dad found himself lifting her up and holding her as if she were a child. He stared into her tired face, before turning to the nervous woman.

"Josie- is that it? The Pussy cat?"

"Y-Yes-"

"What did Betty take?"

"I don't know." She confessed, looking at both men, trembling with tears, "I… I didn't know this would happen. I think it's Jingle Jangle. That's all they had."

Jughead glared at his dad, before staring back at Josie, "Get help for this piece of shit. We're… We're going."

Just as the two were turning back to the road, Josie called out, "P-Please don't tell my mom… She'll skin me alive."

"Maybe give Cheryl some hell," Jughead muttered bitterly.

"Well," FP loudly sighed, "Message Mrs Cooper and tell her Betty's staying overnight with you and her phone is dead." Josie gave a weird face, "Otherwise she'll put two and two together and call the cops on… All of us." She nodded in understanding, immediately panicked. The two continued on their way.

He couldn't help but feel slightly bitter. This wasn't fair. The cold hair was stinging his body, but it was lashing at his cut knuckles. The two men retreated back to the running truck, Jug's stomach flipping over and over again.

FP began to pant, body done and tired from the long day of lifting and tugging and tense panic. "…Jug, open the back door-" He groaned, Jug quickly opening the back, before the older male tried as gently as he could to place Betty in the back, "Sit with her, boy."

Without a word, he climbed in beside her.

The ride back to the trailer was filled with hushed, angry whispers. Betty was fast asleep. "…Jingle Jangle? …Your drugs… Hurt her."

"No, Jug, you're mistaken. This wasn't us. This definitely wasn't our stuff. Jingle Jangle doesn't knock someone out- definitely doesn't make you unable to stand on your own two feet. No, boy, she was given something rotten. They wanted to give her something that was cut with something dirty." FP held himself back from swearing, "…They did something dangerous. If it was cut with something worse- she'd be dead. We're lucky it's just a bad reaction."

"Yeah, lucky." Jug scoffed.

The two of them were furious. Not just at each other, but at everything. What they'd seen, what they'd done, what was happening right now. It was pretty clear the violent life wasn't for them- or, not when someone innocent was involved. Jughead quickly sent the group chat a message, _She's with me. She's OK._ He'd explain the rest tomorrow. But tonight? He was… Tired. He wanted to erase the last twenty four hours and start again.

As they arrived, Jug ignored the messages, climbing out. FP quickly pulled her out before carrying her into the trailer and onto his couch. "Let me just change the sheets on the bed-"

"How nice." Jughead muttered distantly.

"Shut up."

He felt as if he were going into shock. Did he just beat up Jake? Did he just really see that happen? Sure, the southside saw tonnes of shit like that, and hell, Jug had been involved in a lot of the shit that went down there weeks ago- but this was the North… And this was for Betty.

He squirmed, sitting by her sleeping figure. She was just lying there, face eased and smooth of any worries or pain. "Sorry." He sighed, withholding a bitter hiccup. Fuck, he internally hit himself. Yet, almost as if it were natural, he placed a hand on her jean covered calf. He just wanted her safe. As much as he actually liked seeing her face again (even in these circumstances), God knows he'd rather have her tucked away in her own bed, feeling peaceful.

"Alright." FP sighed, quietly picking her back up again, "She'll be in a … clean… bed." He sighed, looking tired.

"…Are you sure you're going to drive out."

"I'm sure." He grinned, quietly whispering, "I've got my own friends. And business."

He placed Betty on the bed, coating her body with his beige sheets, and, hugging Jug firmly, left.

* * *

If you must wait  
Wait for them here in my arms as I shake  
If you must weep  
Do it right here in my bed as I sleep  
If you must mourn, my love  
Mourn with the moon and the stars up above  
If you must mourn  
Don't do it alone  
-Keaton Henson


	4. Don't leave me alone

_Dive in, dive deep in dark blue my sweet  
Rushing up from the water where the ice meets  
And you've been gone so long, you missed everything  
The world can change in a day if you go away  
But nothing could stop the two of us  
If that's what we want  
We could just get lost  
-Lana Del Rey._

* * *

Jughead sat in front of the TV unable to pay attention. His phone was constantly buzzing, furious replies constantly hitting his messenger.

Archiekins: _So she's asleep?_

Jughead: _yes, Archie. For the millionth time. She's asleep. She's sleeping off the bad Jingle Jangle. I'm sorry for not answering, I'm sorry for dealing with my life and having a fucking reason to not stare at her and watch her 24/7- I'm SORRY._

Veronica: _WE'RE NOT MAD! We were just panicking!_

Kevin: _This is a tense time for all of us, come on! Our best friend is being fucked over majorly!_

Archiekins: _Jug, I asked you one thing- to just WATCH HER._

Jughead: _You know, Archie- you're on a holiday, you too, Veronica. And it seems like you're all obsessing over what's happening here._

ARCHIEKINS CHANGED HIS NICKNAME TO ARCHIE.

Archie: _Because I've literally left my best friends in the hands of someone who clearly doesn't give a shit._

Jughead: _First of all, fuck you. Second of all, FUCK YOU. If you cared that much and dind't want to enjoy your fucking holiday, you should come back right now. First thing's first, I'm here for her- And I'm doing the best I can. Stop micromanaging her and I, stop being such a fucking control freak. She is going to be okay._

 **Jughead has left the chat room.**

He sat there, lips pursed. He knew Archie was saying this in frustration. He knew Archie was being a dick because he was angry and scared. He knew Archie was going to feel sorry in the next few hours after some sleep and food. And Veronica might even calm him down. Jughead inhaled, held his breath, and exhaled. It was four am, he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He was tired, his fists and knuckles hurt and his head was killing him.

While he wanted to sleep, he just couldn't. There were many nights where he had taken the couch in the trailer, but whenever he tried to lie down and catch some 'Z's, he was unable. His mind was pulsating with what had just transpired: with the cries, the groans, the cruel laughter- it just kept playing in his mind loudly.

So he lounged on the couch. With the TV still on. There were reruns of 'Married with children', reruns he'd seen a good ten thousand times.

"…Hey," Came a small call, "Jug?"

He looked up to see her standing by the bedroom door. Her eyes looked bleary, hair looked an absolute mess, body slumped against the door frame. "Betty…" He rose from the couch, "are you alright?"

"my head hurts, a bit- I feel a bit drunk, a bit… high." She sighed, rubbing her head briefly before adding, "…Thanks for getting me."

She shouldn't be up. She should be in bed. He had no idea what it was like to do Jingle Jangle, he knew nothing about bad drugs, but he felt her staying off her feet was a good idea. "You… Should go back to bed." Jug couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty staring at her. It was his fault, even though he knew he couldn't have helped it. He had to see his dad, he had to clear shit up- he had to do this. And yet, he felt as if he should have run through a field of razors to stop it all from happening. Sucking on his lips, he turned away from her, cracking his fingers in an act of distraction. Yet without him talking, without him looking at her, the silence was suffocating. The television's numbing, canned laughter couldn't fill it anymore- He bit his bottom lip.

Don't look. You let this happen.

"…I…" She mumbled, "I was thirsty. I wanted-"

"I'll get you some water. You should get back to bed." Standing from his seat felt unnatural. He was tired- tired as hell. His mind was spinning, his body begging him to just lie down and rest. But he wouldn't comply, wouldn't listen- he had to help. It brought back memories to when he was a few years younger and helping his drunk father get back into bed. Hard, tough times not made much better- but like before, he wouldn't just let Betty wallow.

The kitchen was right next to the bedroom, and as he walked up, she refused to budge. She stood by the doorway, fingers playing with the stained wood, eyes on Jug. "…I'm sorry." She whispered.

"I-It's nothing. It's water. Go to bed." He mumbled, "I can't imagine you feel well."

"No, I don't." She chucked him a faint smile. He was only a few feet from her- so close- and all he wanted to do was just embrace her. It would be easy: just a few steps closer, wrap his arms around her, just feel her and smell her and know she was there- she was safe, she was safe with him. "But I'm feeling a bit better." She faintly murmured.

No thanks to me, Jug thought, frowning. He turned sharply into the kitchen. No use in dreaming. He would never embrace her. She would never want him: someone useless, violent and stupid like him. He clenched his fists tight, teeth gritted, nose flaring. God, if he could just get back to Jake now- he'd… He'd… Fuck, he'd gut him.

…Calm it down. Cool it down. He took in a deep breath, before pouring Betty a god damn drink of water- he just couldn't snap near her. Not tonight – and preferably, not ever. She had followed his directions: back in bed, sitting against the headboard. "…Thanks." She murmured, taking the glass, gulping it all down, before gasping. "That feels good." Wiping her mouth, panting a bit, she shut her eyes. "I was so thirsty."

"I can imagine." Jug mumbled, standing awkwardly, "…You should get back to sleep, I'll go-"

"No!" She pleaded, "Please, just… Sit with me for a bit?"

"You're tired- and-"

"You're tired, too, though." Good point. Admittedly, Jughead did want to sit with her, he wanted to tell her why he didn't go and why he let her down, but at the same time, he felt ashamed. He shouldn't be near her. "Just… _Come on, Jug, sit down._ " She sighed dramatically, tapping a spot by her knees. "Keep me company."

Swallowing hard, he complied, climbing onto the bed and flopping into a supine position. The two remained silent, the whisper of the TV and the squawking of waking birds humming in the awkward air. All he could do was stare at her, caught in her own stare. Her eyes bore into his, and he felt naked and ashamed under her gaze. "I'm sorry." He admitted.

"…For what?"

"I let you walk into that den of wolves." The floodgates opened. He couldn't stop. He hurriedly explained himself, "I let you get drugged and… attacked- and I'm so sorry. I didn't want that to happen, I should have been there-"

"J-Jughead," Betty interrupted him, waving her hand in the air, "Stop, stop- stop- It's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine. …And Jug, you didn't lead me into anything. I'm my own woman, I wanted to go to that party. Josie was nice, I thought Cheryl wanted to patch things up… It was me. Not you. You're not my babysitter." She rolled her eyes, "…So don't blame yourself. And anyway… for the first few hours, I did have some fun."

Jug nodded uneasily.

"…But why did you not come with me? Why didn't you text me? ...I get you were with your dad but…" She mumbled, "Why promise to hang with me." She sounded hurt.

Rolling onto his side and propping his head up with his hand, Jug sighed. He didn't want to tell her the truth, at least, not all of it. But admittedly, he didn't want to lie and tell her some bullshit thing like 'my grandpa died and we had to stay together for the day' or 'we had to go to daddy son therapy', it was pathetic and wrong. But he didn't want to admit who he was, what he was.

"…You don't have to say."

"No. …Look. I should have said, but I didn't know. My plan was to… hang out with you. Take you to a nice pizza place, show you …" He trailed off, embarrassed, "But my dad came early in the morning. I hadn't seen him or spoken to him for… Weeks. There were a few things I had to do and … They had to be done."

Betty nodded, understandingly, but her eyes were teary.

"Betty?" a look of concern flashed across his face. Was she in pain? Was she suddenly decompressing from what really happened? He reached out, but left it in the air, unable to touch her. Would she break? Would she cry her eyes out? Would she recoil in horror? Maybe it wasn't a good idea to touch her, he didn't want to trigger her. "Betty-"

Before he could put it back, she gripped it, letting out a tearful breath. Cool flesh combined with his heated fingers. She held it tightly, breathing in through a blocked nose. "…I thought you hated me." She admitted, hiccupping. "I thought I'd _done something_." And then she began to sob. Jughead? Hate her? God… No. never. He thought she'd hate him. It was… Sickly relieving to hear she was worried about his thoughts. Selfless idiot, he thought, heart beating hard as fuck.

Jughead sat up, unable to comfort her because there were just so many ways and he didn't know which one was the right one and which one he liked more- he wanted to hug her, he wanted to pat her back, he wanted to hand her a big bowl of ice cream or a mug of chocolate… He just wanted to see her tears stop.

He instead used his other hand to clasp both of hers, managing to trap them in a tight cage. Her cold flesh was awkward and unpleasant against his strangely hot skin, yet he continued: if this was all he could do to soothe her, he'd do it. "…Betty… Betty- I … Why… _How_ could I hate you?" He whispered.

She was _unhateable_. She was Betty Cooper- that had to be an explanation in itself.

She sniffed in, sobbing out, before clumsily climbing up. Jughead looked a little alarmed to see her attempting to move- yet she continued before her entire body was on his- He laid there, unable to move (not wanting to move), shocked. "Oof-"

Oh she was hugging him.

 _She was hugging him_. And she was shaking and she was squirming and he could feel her tears soaking his neck where she'd shoved her face- and all he could do was hug her back and hold her. It were as if her body had robbed his lungs of air, his heart of any calmness. His senses prickled at what was now washing over him: the sound of her sobbing gasps, the feel of her cool skin, the smell of her perfume, the sight of her blonde hair thrown against his eyes. He couldn't hate it- he liked it. He liked comforting her.

He'd never felt anything like this: whether he was being comforted or comforting, this was entirely new to him. But all he wanted to do was make sure she was okay.

Rolling properly onto his back, he freed both arms, before pulling her onto him properly. This was honestly his first time with a crying woman on his chest (a fairly relieving thought to have), and he felt as if he were handling it okay. But this was Betty. A woman, who, two weeks ago, in Jug's mind would never cry over him. Yet, he couldn't help but feel this new perspective on her was welcome. She was… This thing that he wanted to protect.

She cried for a bit, physically warming from the heater that was Jug. Several times she moaned, "I feel so drunk." And "My head hurts." To which Jug would stroke her hair.

This is what friends did, right? Jug knew if you turned on any teen drama, lovers would do this- and he was wrong to kind of wish they would both end up making out and living happily ever after. Maybe he did like her.

"…I can't hate you, Betty." Jug feebly murmured, "in fact… I don't want you to hate me."

" _Why would I hate you?!_ " She sobbed.

"Because … I wasn't there in time… I should have been there- I …" His throat began to constrict feeling thick and tight, he faltered. Betty looked up, watching as he blinked a few watery drops away, "You were calling me and … Messaging me and…"

She shook her head, taking in a deep breath before sitting on him. Her hair fell in front of her face- God she looked like a mess. A gorgeous mess. Who would have thought, the polished cheerleader would sit on Jug, a mess- crying. "Jug… I don't need you thinking you're my protector. I didn't expect you to be my bodyguard for the night, nor did I expect to fire you when you weren't there… It's not your fault. It's no one's fault but Jake's and…" She sadly sighed, "Cheryl's." He was still confused as to why she would go. She couldn't be that vapid- that oblivious- that she didn't realize Cheryl hated her.

She rubbed her head again, "…I don't hate you. I guess I'm just… Letting out my feelings."

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

She pursed her lips, "To be honest? Not at the moment." Jug nodded understandably, hands unconsciously placed by her thighs. Her skirt had ridden up, his fingers were pressing into her soft skin- he was forced to swallow awkwardly. She was gorgeous. Even with puffy eyes, red cheeks and a wet nose, she was gorgeous as fuck. And the only thing stopping Jug from reacting in such a position like this was the fact that this just wasn't the right moment.

As much as he wanted to flip her on her back and kiss her- it wasn't the right moment… Like, at all. Even if she was sitting directly on his crotch. This was not the time.

He was still, breathing. "I just-" He wanted to say something- something calming, but he couldn't- he was interrupted as one of her hands blindly gripped his, tugging it up and-

 _Holymotherofserpentsandhipstersandtypewriters._ A breast. He was touching a breast- he was touching her breast and – His eyes widened as he looked from his elbow to his hand a few times, as if to try and see new results. But it was there. His hand was planted on her left breast, Betty's hand stapling it there before she had his hands squeezing it gently. It was soft, it was round, it was shielded by a bra, but it was a breast- _Betty's Breast._

"B-Betty-" He stammered, "A-Uh-"

She repeated it with his other hand, holding it against her other breast, breathing gently, "Your hands are so warm." She lightly murmured- Jughead audibly groaned as she began a sensual rocking motion back and forth against his crotch. He felt his entire body warming up, his stomach squirming, his crotch recognising what was going on.

He'd _definitely_ had sex- he'd definitely had women in the Serpents wanting a fuck- but this? This was new, he'd never felt so torn apart.

Fuck, what is this? Jug's mind was racing for answers, but he came up with more questions. Why was he liking this? He was enjoying this- he was enjoying this- but God- what was Betty doing?! This felt wrong. It felt so right but he knew it was just wrong! Her head leant back, hands tugging at the button and zipper on his jeans, humming as her rocking deepened- "Betty," He called out, wishing he could punch himself. Jughead knew it had to stop… _BUT FUCK HE DIDN'T WANT TO_. "Betty-" she continued, managing to undo and unzip. It relieved pressure, he let out a quiet groan as his cock jumped free from the confines, her crotch rubbing against it- Her eyes were on him, lips apart with a sensual moan- even with his dick clothed by his briefs, he felt electricity shooting through his entire body. As her body straddled him properly, he took in a deep breath sharply, groaning, "Betty, stop-" he called as she rocked slightly faster- "Argh-"

This wasn't good- "Betty!" He would shoot himself later. He gripped her hands, tugging them away. It were as if he'd thrown water on the two of them. She stared down at him, eyes confused and a bit embarrassed. "Jug?" She stopped what she was doing, much to Jughead's despair.

"Betty… This isn't right. You're… You're still under the affects of Jingle Jangle-" before she could even reject that excuse (and fuck, Jug wished it wasn't), he continued, "A-And you've … Just had a shitty experience and it's five in the morning and…" He swallowed thickly, "I know you'll regret it later if this happens."

She shook her head, "God- no- I won't-"

"But you might. And… I don't want you to regret anything you do with me." His heart was still beating hard. She climbed off of him and fell beside him, the bed creaking and shaking. With a huff, she twisted to his side, eying him tearfully.

"…I don't want you to hate me."

"I don't." He whispered. Between them, there was a moment of unease as he cautiously gripped one of her delicate fingers and brought it to his lips, a small kiss- a small gesture. His stomach twisted yet again, uneasy, full of lust and in _fucking_ confusion, "But you should sleep."

"Stay with me then?" It were as if seventeen year old Betty had regressed into a seven year old. So terrified. Jughead swallowed, nodding, holding her fingers softly. It made him feel better that he hadn't continued when she looked this sad.

It was silent, him watching her eyes close, her attempting to sleep. Maybe she was embarrassed, maybe she was horrified, maybe she was angry or relieved- Jug didn't know. But he felt a mix of things. Anger. Lust. Glee and despair. He was angry the night had become a mess, he was -fuck- he was turned on, he was… Relieved to be with her and felt comfortable just being beside her and he was despairing because… It was all such a mess.

His heart wouldn't calm: he could still feel her body beneath his fingers, a ghost of a presence that had his body rushing with excitement. And his cock- God… He swallowed.

"…Hey, Jug?" She whispered, "…I'm sorry." Before he could reply with an exasperated response, she shot off, "I just- I… I don't know. You're right. Maybe I should sleep. But everything's been a mess lately- and- I don't know what to do. I'm at a loss. I want to disappear and run away and…" She trailed off, voice hitching, "I feel like I'm going to go crazy if I don't. It's just… Difficult."

He kissed her fingers again, noticing she wasn't pulling away. But he felt the same. He wanted to leave Riverdale, fuck he did. If he could flee with her- just leave with the clothes on their backs, be nomads forever and ever, writing and writing and writing around the country- around the world- fuck... What a dream. He quietly murmured, "It's okay-"

"It's not, though." She whispered, shutting him down, "…Can I tell you something? And you can't tell anyone. Archie and Ronnie know, but… It's not because I hated you that I didn't tell I was just so horrified and humiliated and…" The silence between them was what urged her on, "…Polly tried to kill herself. Jason and her kept having fights and mom kept … going at her to just be perfect and to break up with him and all this bull shit," her teeth were gritting, "And then one day, she's gone- Dad tells me she tried to kill herself, mom shuts me down whenever I mention it. But all I know is that Jason went to boarding school, Polly's gone, and I'm on my own and I feel like I'm going to end up like her- I feel like maybe I'll go insane, maybe I'll snap next-"

"Shh…" Jughead pulled her to him, pressing his chin over the top of her head, "It won't."

"But I'm so lonely without her. I…" Her voice escaped her, a fresh wave of tears striking her chords- she leant into him, their bodies rocking to the violent sobs wracking her body. Jug just laid there, holding her. All he could feel was guilt: He'd known all along, thinking this was just some little stain on her crystalline life. It was becoming obvious- blindingly obvious- that this was gripping her heart with sharp talons. He should have come clean, should have told her he knew, should have told her from the very beginning that he was there for her.

He felt so heartless. He remained silent, listening. But words escaped his mouth, "have you seen her?" It felt awkward to hear his quiet voice.

She let out a choking scoff, "not once."

"Do you know where she is?" Maybe it was a dumb question. Maybe not. Jug knew that he just wanted her to feel better, he wanted to do anything.

"Yeah…" She cleared her throat, "I did some investigating on my own. T-There's a place called 'Sisters of quiet mercy', on Rosary road out west."

"Sounds… merciful." Jughead mumbled.

She gave a snort, "I can't get to it. I don't have a car, and plus, I wouldn't want to go on my own. I'm… _So scared they'll put me in there._ "

After a moment of thinking, with Jug envisioning a cruel, castle-like building shutting poor people fucked over by society in a jail like room. Surely her parents wouldn't shut her up in there. But then again, they'd shut perfect Polly in there. And he was beginning to think that perhaps there was something more to the story. He pursed his lips before murmuring, "Let's go."

A moment of silence, a moment of abrupt shock and glee. Betty whispered with a small, quiet smile, "You don't have a car-"

"I have a bike."

She laughed. The sound was welcome to Jug's ears, cracking his serious façade apart to reveal a chuckle, "It's going to be snowing for the next few days, Jug, I don't think a bike will take us both-"

He rolled his eyes, "It's a motorcycle, Betty. It'll get us there in no time. And I'll be there, every step of the way."

She went silent, "Juggy," There was nothing that followed.

"Hn?"

"I never thought you and I would be here. Ever." There was a faint smile in her strained voice. Jug silently nodded, stroking her hair, refusing to say anymore. Would she remember any of this? Was there any point to making that silent promise, was there any point hoping that maybe what she'd done had meant something to her? He didn't know, he didn't want to hope.

The two of them both fell fast asleep.

* * *

When they woke up, it was only ten in the morning, but Jug woke to an empty bed. "Betty?" He called out. He thought for a moment that maybe the entire night had been a bad dream speckled with goodness and lust. He swallowed uneasily, thirsty as fuck, and rolling onto his back. God, fuck, what a night. His entire body felt as if he'd been dragged through stones, his joints and limbs feeling as if he'd been running and rolling and jumping for months on end- and fuck, his knuckles ached. As he rubbed his eyes, breathing in deeply, he realized the room was incredibly cold. Had Betty turned the aircon on?

Looking around grumpily, he realized it was in fact the window that had been opened up, allowing gusts of wind to blow the curtains like billowing flags.

"I'm here!" Came a distant voice, "I'm just in the kitche-" There was a light shriek, Jug shooting up out of bed, "It's okay, sorry- I was getting the toast out."

Toast?

He climbed out, making his way to Betty. She stood there, sucking her thumb over a tower of toast. "…I made breakfast. There isn't a lot of food here… So… I worked with what I had." She awkwardly smiled. He searched her face, searched for anything, anything that could say she wasn't okay and she was going to cry- but she seemed fine. Noticing this, she shot him a smile, "What?"

Even though she looked ragged and tired, her mascara smudging into black little trails down her cheeks, her lips smudged with pink stain, her hair messy, her body swamped in a large black shirt (was that FP's shirt?), she looked… Okay. She looked beautiful. Warmth pooled in his stomach as he found himself star struck, hurriedly muttering, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just burnt myself." She laughed to herself, "Jug-"

He shook his head, "No- No, Betty, you know what I mean." Sternly, he leant on one of the counters, "Last night- I mean…"

"Last night I was scared and lonely and just relieved to be in a bed with someone I know. But now, as you can see, I'm good- perfectly fine." Rolling his eyes, he remained glued to the spot. She carried the plate to him, shoving it lightly into his stomach. "Now, take a slice." Cautiously, he did, biting into the buttered, crispy treat. "…I'm grateful for what you did, really. Thank you."

"Which bit? The letting you down part or violently beating the crap out of Jake part."

"I'd put it: the coming to get me part, the taking me back part, the giving me a bed part and agreeing to take me to Polly part." She paused, laughing lightly, "And I kind of appreciate the Jake thing. So, thank you, again."

He shrugged, unable to really let it go. But she remembered last night and this morning- she remembered his promise to take her to Polly… She would obviously remember everything else. It was a strike to the gut when Jug realized that she probably did regret it. To be honest with himself, he wanted it. He wanted to slip his hand under her bra, wanted to taste those lips- But… He was glad they hadn't gone further. He was glad she hadn't done that and regretted it and hated what they'd done, but also, he was glad she didn't do it and hated him in response.

He nodded, "Let's… Let's head out."

"Now?"

"Is there anything you want to do first? I can take you back to your house. You can get changed, if you want."

She shrugged, "To be honest, I don't have anything to do. Let me just call mom first-"

"She thinks you're at Josie's. Dad told her to text your mom."

She smiled in relief, "Hopefully she believes that. I did tell her I was going out with Josie yesterday." She picked at some toast before eating it all, tugging her phone out of her skirt pocket. "Well, shit," there was an incredulous laugh, "I think she believes it. She's sent me like… Fifty messages asking when I'll get home."

Jug stood idly by, chewing on his toast, before tugging his phone out.

There were a few texts from Archie and Fred.

 ** _Dude, I'm sorry. I don't want to seem like I'm just banging on you but I feel so shit sitting here unable to help. I am grateful for what ur doing, I prmise._**

 ** _Promise*_**

Jug sighed, he'd better reply. He knew deep down Archie wasn't trying to be the enemy, in fact, he was trying to be the complete opposite. Biting into the toast, he began to type. **_It's fine. Just… Stop wasting your holiday. Enjoy your time. Betty is as good as she'll be at this point. Spend time with Veronica, stop stressing._**

 _Vrr…Vrr…rrr…_

 ** _Thanks man. I trust you._**

Like he's supposed to, Jug thought, rolling his eyes. Attempting to lighten the conversation, he sent back, **_Take tonnes of pictures for Betty and I. We're going to need some obnoxious Archie talking about his holiday._**

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrr…_

 ** _Shut up, man ;P_**

From Fred, there were a few concerned texts wondering where he was and if he was okay. It was nice to have someone concerned for his wellbeing, seeing that his father hadn't even texted him since yesterday night's incident. He sent a quick text, telling Fred he was fine and he'd be back at some point.

"Well," Betty sighed, turning back into the kitchen, "I've calmed her down. I told her I was going shopping in Greendale with Ethel." After a second, she seemed pretty pleased, "And she believed it. It's… Getting a lot easier lying to mom."

Jokingly, Jug smirked, picking another piece of buttered toast up, "Oh, bad Betty- first her mother, then the establishment."

"Watch out, world." She laughed, tucking her phone away, "Well, Alice Cooper is one thing. The world is another," she sighed, "I don't even know if I can carry it on any further. Maybe she'll figure it out."

Jughead nodded solemnly, "Parents suck. I've come to that conclusion." He scoffed it, swallowing the toast before setting the rest of it down, "Come on. Let's go to this Merciful sisters or whatever it's called," He mumbled. Her eyes were full of steely determination as she nodded, unable to must any enthusiasm into her pale face. What was she expecting? What was Jug expecting? To watch this young woman get answers? To see her unite with someone she missed, someone who embodied her most feared psyche?

But as they neared the door, Jug sighed, "Betty."

"Hm?"

"You can't leave like that."

She turned around, quirking an eyebrow, "Excuse me?" But it was true. The trailer was warm, but that didn't mean Riverdale was. Outside, the window revealed the light snow falling and the thick layer of fluffy white coating the ground. In her denim skirt and FP's shirt- she'd freeze. "Oh." She realized what he meant, "…I left my sweater at the party… And I borrowed your dad's shirt."

"It's okay." Jug mumbled, "He's got … A thousand of those shirts. But you can borrow something from my dad. All of my clothes are at Archie's."

He quickly darted around, searching for anything- ANYTHING- that could keep her warm and protected, but only found one thing that could withhold the tests of the cold conditions. And it made his stomach turn. It was leather, it was studded, and it had a large serpent emblazoned on the back. "Ah-" He tugged it out, feeling a bit embarrassed. There were many revelations that had shaken Jug with Betty: but he knew this of all things would make her squirm. The Serpents? Rabble in the eyes of the Northers.

If she didn't want it, he'd wear it- she could wear his sheep skin bomber jacket. "Is that… A Serpent jacket?" She whispered, eyes wide at the sight of it.

"Do you mind?"

"Who's is it?!" Eagerness was stuck in her large eyes- not disgust. Fairly relieving, but incredibly confusing. Jughead shrugged, "Come on- is it yours?" She whispered, as if it were a crime to merely suggest it.

He was too scared to admit it, so he lied, "It's… Dad's. He left it here last night. I mean I can wear it- You can have this-" But she'd snatched it from his hands, smiling as if she were a rebel. Jug stared, lost at the sight of this beautiful woman. She stood there, pulling it on, taking delight in the large size, the leather, the symbolism of what it meant to be in it. How could she shock him yet again?

Just as it was slightly too big on Jug, it was too big on her. She drowned in the leather, yet as it hung for dear life on her shoulders, yet it didn't look odd on her. She seemed to take hold of it with a sense of control, as if this cape of scuffed leather was her birthright. As well as, she just looked down right sexy.

"You're not… Upset?" Jug mumbled, grabbing a helmet for Betty.

"I mean," She began, allowing him to open the front door. Her nose wrinkled, as if she were a mouse wondering how to approach a lump of bread, she was struggling to approach her response, "I kind of guessed your dad was in the Serpents. School… Talks, you know? I hear a lot of bad stuff about what they do…" He prickled with a bit of embarrassment and defensive anger, before she continued, oblivious to how he felt. She pursed her lips as they slowly made their way out of the trailer and to the tarp covered motorcycle. The two of them were bitten by the cold immediately, "But… The North Siders aren't exactly innocent. They… Maintain all of this dumb, antagonising north versus south stuff… I don't hate them, definitely not. I'm definitely not repulsed by this jacket, haha."

Jug forced a smile. He would have preferred Betty to have praised the Serpents, to establish that they were a bunch of angels and she hated how they were victimized. It would be easy to admit that he was ultimately part of that gang, part of crime… But it was a shock in itself for Betty to even say she didn't hate them.

Betty faced him, searching his face, "Did I upset you?"

"God, no," Jug gave a crooked grin, speaking over the howling wind, "Just wondering if we'll survive the ride." He lied awkwardly. Of course he was wondering about the weather, but he wasn't upset because of that.

"…Are you having second thoughts?" She had to speak over the whistling wind, worry managing to seep in heavily. Yet, her steely eyes, firm and unequivocally unapologetic, narrated her determination to get there. With him, without him. Jug was sure that if he turned away from her now, she'd walk the entire way.

And while he'd rather be in the trailer, curled up under a blanket and eating a bowl of cereal there was no way he'd leave Betty to fend for herself. He sighed, pulling the tarp off and throwing it against the trailer wall, "Hell no- Let's do this. We're going to solve this mystery." He climbed onto it, tugging on his leather gloves, before feeling a warm body clamber behind him.

* * *

It was a quick ride. Jug had expected something a bit longer, yet Rosary Road was easy to get to. The only thing that had really affected them was the lack of proper clothing. All that was revealed to the harsh wind that had whipped at their flesh was prickling with the cold and pain. His knuckles stung badly, his neck felt numb, his knees, revealed through the tears in his jeans, felt as if the flesh had been torn off- and he didn't want to know how Betty felt.

Yet he did feel a sense of disappointment as they arrived at the towering building. Her arms had been tightly strung around his waist, her legs pressed tightly against his, her body firmly held against his back- it felt right, it felt teasingly right, as if she should be there always. Yet as she peeled herself apart from him, climbing off, and staring off at the building before them, he knew it would probably never work out like that.

His mind flashed to earlier that morning, hands burning with what he'd held, stomach jolting, "…Wow." She murmured.

"What?"

She pulled the helmet from her head, whipping her hair back and forth before it fell comfortably by her neck, "…I can't believe mom and dad would put her here."

The wind had calmed, he could easily hear her disgusted whisper. And as he gazed at the looming structure properly, he recognised why she would feel that way. Shocked, disgust, fear and despair. Humanity's failure, a box that oozed secrecy and violence. The building was a red brick building with a black roof. A grand theme of Victorian goths and ghostly Tim Burton cartoonish grandeur clashed, the windows thin and long with metal bars to match. This is where they locked the sad and lonely up?

He didn't want to think of it's beginnings. He didn't want to think of Polly in there. And he suddenly understood Betty's fears. If Polly could wind up in such a horrid place, what about Betty? Jughead tore the keys from the ignition and climbed off of his bike, stalking behind the young blonde, "We should go in."

She nodded. Both of them climbed up the stairs, pushing the heavy doors open. A gush of heat met their bodies, Jug immediately relieved to feel his fingers tingling with warmth. The interior of the building, from what he could see, looked like a mash up between the fifties and the late nineteenth century. Wrought iron lamps hung from the ceiling, with fine plaster mouldings decorating the yellow paint and grand red (but peeling) wallpaper. The linoleum tiles squeaked beneath Betty's shoes, alarming the nurse that sat behind the largest, sturdiest wooden desk Jughead had ever seen.

"Can I help you?" She frostily murmured, glaring at the two. Jughead wished he could be as ruthless as he could. She looked like a toad, face pale but nose red, eyes coated in the largest, oldest, thickest glasses he'd seen, with greying hair bunched in a bun and a white nurses cap fixed firmly on her head.

"oh-" Betty immediately stammered, unable to smith her words correctly. Jughead could only imagine the fear. Through weeks of dreaming to be here, to confront her demons, to see her beloved sister… And then to be met by the horror of it all.

"We're here to see Polly Cooper?" Jughead interrupted, gripping Betty's hand instantaneously.

She turned her attention to Jug, eyes groping each and every feature. She kept staring at his beanie. "…and who are you two?"

"I'm Polly Cooper's sister, Betty." She'd built up some confidence, squeezing Jug's fingers tightly.

Instead of any interest, the woman turned away, "Are you Polly's legal guardian?"

"Well-" Betty stumbled for words, "I'm her sister."

Jughead stared frostily at the woman who simply replied in a bored, monotone, cruel voice, "If you're not her legal guardian, you can't see her."

It became clear to Jughead that Betty's silence was one of anguish. She'd come here hoping for some closure, hoping to conclude one tragic aspect of her life- to get some answers. And it was obvious that it wasn't happening. She turned to Jug, eyes glistening, "What do I do?" She mouthed, unable to find her voice.

Jughead took in a frustrated breath. Taking this as impatience at her, Betty closed her mouth tightly, swallowing loudly.

"Look-" Jughead began. Yet a tug on his hand showed Betty was desperate to give up. In a silent plea, she wanted to retreat. But he wasn't done. He wasn't going to let her give up. This wasn't going to be a waste, he wasn't going to send her back where she would feel even more isolated and confused. "Look," He repeated, voice rising. He felt an anger in his gut, an anger similar to last night, an anger similar to the one he felt when wearing that leather jacket and cruising with his gang, "We just came here to visit her sister, Betty hasn't seen her-"

"I'm sorry, if she's not her legal guardian she can't see her- those are the rules. Don't like them?" The nurse grumbled, "Get over it."

"Jughead… Please…" She faintly whispered, tears bubbling, voice cracking, "…C-Can we just …" Her face flushed.

He shook his head. He released her hand, tugging at the leather jacket before it fell off her embarrassed frame. Angrily, he threw it at the desk, the serpent emblem staring the nurse in the eye. Immediately, she looked up, shocked and furious.

"Look- I don't want to get security here-" Yet it was obvious the simple shape of the hissing snake had her taken aback. Who liked confronting a serpent?

"And I don't want to call the Serpents around." Jughead confidently said, "We're here to visit Polly. Simple as that. If you don't like that, I'm sure you wouldn't like us coming around in numbers double your security."

It was silent. The woman stopped looking at the papers by her hands and was gazing at Betty with the realization that protocol didn't seem that important when the Serpents were involved. "…" Inhaling through her wrinkled nose, the woman stood up angrily. "…Let me take you to her."

Gleaming with silent victory, Jughead looked at the shocked Betty whose eyes were now dry with shock. "…Ju…" She murmured, "Thank you." She mouthed.

The woman walked around the desk, grabbing a large bunch of keys, before limping down the room, "Follow me then." Her voice was frosty, unable to consider that Betty was desperate to see her sister. It had Jug wondering if this entire establishment was this cold, this cruel and this disturbing. He wouldn't be shocked if it was.

Jughead grabbed his leather jacket. Deciding he should be the one wearing the serpent emblem, he quickly swapped with Betty, who gratefully tugged on his sheepskin jacket.

As they wondered through the hallways in utter silence, the two teenagers gathered how creepy the institution really was. It was absolutely silent, perfectly heated and seemed to gather some warmth in the walls. Blush pink paint coated each door, as if a rose had blessed each entrance with peace and beauty. The lights themselves were a warm yellow, dusting the three of them with some eerily peaceful aura. Yet Jughead felt anything but peaceful.

The silence was just too… deafening. Each door they passed seemed to be gravestone, emblazoned with a specific number that acted like a crude remembrance to the occupier. He continued walking, looking to Betty occasionally. Her eyes regained the steely determination. She was so close. So close to answers and seeing her sister- her beloved sister.

"Here we are." The woman grumbled, "Polly would have just come back from lunch and meds, she's probably very tired. Probably wants to sleep." Maybe it was a crude final warning for the two young teenagers, but neither turned away, "But that won't stop you." She huffed, unlocking the door. "You have thirty minutes before I will be forced to call security. We have _rules_ here."

Jughead was battling with whether he should step in with them, or leave the two women alone. Yet as the door opened, Betty's fingers gripped at Jug's with a desperate, hidden plea ' _Don't leave me'._

* * *

Polly was sitting with her back against the two, her blonde hair shining from the light of the lamp on her desk. "Polly, you have visitors." The woman sounded outlandishly nice, yet her eyes were on Jug and Betty suspiciously, "Would you like to see them?"

Betty's fingers squeezed Jug's. The young woman twisted around to face them, eyes cold, before she realized who they were. "B-Betty?" She choked, jumping to her feet, "O-Of course I want to see them, Linda!" She gasped, immediately jumping to hug Betty tightly.

Jug took a step back, eying Linda who looked furious at the situation. "We'll see you in a while, Linda." He frostily snapped, wishing her to just disappear. With a grunt, she shut the door on all three of them, twisting the lock. Seems like she didn't want any of them to escape. For good reason, Jug reasoned inwardly, the institution wouldn't want any Shawshank redemption happening under their roof.

Polly had always been gorgeous. A veteran on the cheer squad, a master orator, a god damn beauty queen, she'd been the pride of Riverdale. Everyone knew she would take the conventional route of Riverdale: get married young, have plenty of blue eyed children and live as an example to all the young little girls. Yet obviously she'd broken their mould. Here she was, a perfect example of how shitty life was.

She didn't look very different. Her hair still shone, her skin was still kissed and blessed with softness and a healthy glow and her smile was still full of glee. "I knew you'd come." She giggled.

Betty pulled away, "I missed you so much… I've wanted to see you for ages but-"

"mom and dad didn't let you?" Polly sighed, "Let me guess- they told you I was in rehab or… what? Jail?"

Betty gaped. Was it appropriate to say? Jug, leaning against her cupboard, spoke up, "They said you attempted suicide."

Polly scoffed, "How original." She took a few steps back, shrugging off her stark white dressing gown, "I wasn't sent here for suicide." The very thought irritated her, "I was sent here for this."

Betty choked and Jughead was left stumped for the hundredth time since he'd gotten involved in this Betty fiasco. Jutting out of her nun-like, white uniform was a bulging stomach- unapologetically and unashamedly pregnant. "Y-You're … _Pregnant?!_ " Betty stammered, "I mean… I mean- I'm surprised, not upset-" She assured her quickly, "F…For weeks I thought you'd… You'd tried to end it all-" Instead of being happy or relieved, the young teenager threw her hands to cover her face, bursting into tears.

"Betty?" Polly murmured, "Aren't you relieved?"

"Yes- Of course! I'm relieved you're okay! But… God, I …" Betty fell into her sister's arms, "You'd been so upset and then suddenly you disappear and I thought you were driven to killing yourself by mom and dad and Jason- and … God, I was so worried and so lonely and so …-" She gripped the young woman tight, sniffling, "I'm… I'm so relieved but god- Jesus- I thought mom and dad sent you here out of embarrassment and had driven you to this-"

"They did send me here out of embarrassment, Betty." Polly laughed, "They wouldn't keep a pregnant, underaged, unmarried girl in their house. Even if it was there daughter. But- anyway- Where's Jason?" She pulled Betty away, gripping her arms, smiling widely, "I know that mom and dad held you back and didn't want you to know about me… But now that you're here surely Jason knows… Is he here?"

Betty quietened, "No… Uh, no-"

"Where is he?"

Betty and Jug shared a quick look, "He's… Been sent to boarding school."

"We were supposed to graduate last semester. Why- Why is he there? Why is he repeating? So he doesn't know I'm here?"

"I don't think so… Did he know you were pregnant?"

Silence. Polly fell back slightly, sitting, a bit defeated on her bed. She slumped, "God, no… We'd gotten into a fight. He wanted to get married- but… Man, I was trying to finish my assignments and exams and college applications and… We broke up and… Well, Betty, you know, I had that melt down. And then I realized I was pregnant and … I felt so happy." She explained this very quietly, staring at her younger sister, forgetting Jughead's existence, which he was definitely fine with. "But mom found the test. And then dad and her sent me here before I could even talk to him… he has to get in touch with me. He has to know I'm here. He can't redo his last year of high school and think I abandoned him-"

"I'm pretty sure that's not why he went to boarding school." Jughead intercepted. "I think the Blossom's were probably told by your parents. They probably sent him away out of embarrassment."

Polly grit her teeth, "Typical of them. God… Can no one in this town want me to be happy?"

"Of course!" Betty jumped to her side, soothingly stroking her arms, "There are a lot of people who want you to be happy. I want you to be happy… And… You're having a baby. This is wonderful, you're going to be a mom!" She smiled, "I'll fix this. I promise."

The older woman gave a teary smile, "…Thanks. I … Just want to get out of her. I just want to see Jason. They won't even let me call anyone."

Apologies were shoved into Polly's arms by a loving Betty who continually hugged her, kissed her cheeks and stroked her belly. She obviously wasn't too far ahead, but she was definitely showing. It all became clear that where they were was large enough to hold a small wing for women who 'broke the law of God' (ie: women who got pregnant, God forbid) and another small wing for mentally ill people. It didn't seem like a good mix. But it had been this way for over a century.

The two continued to talk, whereas Jug simply stared out at the window and into the backyard of the institution. It all seemed like a cruel, white wasteland that glared back at Jug, but the black features of the statues, dead trees and metal seats poked up at him in a fearful plea for rescue. They were being swallowed by the snow that continued to fall.

Jughead couldn't imagine how Polly would feel. How could she not go insane? She'd just graduated, was supposed to be feeling some freedom- but now, pregnant, alone and locked away, underage, she was… isolated. It almost seemed draconian what was being done. But at least Betty had her answers. She knew that her sister hadn't tried to end it, she didn't have to deal with the lies and the fear that her own mind was being attacked by her parents.

He felt a pull by the young blonde. This brave, broken, rebellious and beautiful woman was somewhat an anomaly. She was so perfect from the outside, all A's and a perfect track record. Yet as Jug had experienced from the very few days together, he'd dug beneath the pristine, snowy surface to find something darker. And he didn't hate it. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her. She was enticing, definitely.

But there was something else. And he didn't know what to do about it. He didn't know how to feel about it.

All was interrupted by a firm knock. "Please don't go." Polly whispered, gripping her sister's hands, "I know I'm here because I'm pregnant- but I'm being driven insane by this isolation…"

"I have to go," Betty sadly sighed, she definitely didn't want to abandon her sister, "They only gave me thirty minutes… And we definitely came her against the rules."

"But you'll come back?"

"I'll try again and again." Betty smiled.

Instead of waiting patiently, the door was shoved open- Jug expected to see the crusty Linda, but was shocked to see one Hal Cooper standing in the doorway beside two men in white. "Dad?" the two women jumped in unison.

"You didn't think they'd call me?" He muttered, furiously, "Betty, how dare you?"

But the blonde was drunk on confidence. She stood up straight, pointing a furious finger at him, "no, dad, how dare you? You've been hiding Polly for weeks! You told me she tried to kill herself-"

Yet he spoke over her, ignoring Polly, ignoring Jug- "She's very sick." It were as if the woman in question wasn't there at all. "She needed this-"

"I'm pregnant- I'm not sick!" Polly spat.

Jughead jumped infront of the two women as the two men (presumably security) cautiously made their way into the room. Trouble was brewing. Jughead knew there was no way they'd be able to sneak Polly away and that Hal was definitely in no mood to humour any of them. But this man, this furious, angry looking man, the historic sweetheart, seemed like a dark, hidden figure full of impatience and a demand for perfection. Jughead could imagine a snapping belt, the smell of bourbon and rooms filled with cigar smoke whenever he saw this man. He knew nothing about him, he didn't know if he would want to shove Betty in a room there right then and there, or if he would have security beat them both up- or just Jug. He didn't know.

"Betty, we're going." Hal firmly said.

"You have to let Polly go, dad." Betty ignored him, pleading instead, "She's just pregnant- i-it's not a crime! God damn it, it's 2017!"

"Betty-"

"She's not dangerous! There's liter-"

" ** _BETTY._** "

But stubbornly, she linked her arms with Polly, "I… I don't want to go. I won't leave her."

Jughead stared at both the men who were prickling with a need for action. He didn't know if he could take both of them on in a confined room without hurtling one of them into Betty or Polly. And he knew in itself this escape would be full of flaws and pointless. But he didn't want to see Betty hurt.

"Betty- we're going. We're going now, willingly, or they'll force you and Mr beanie head out."

The blonde woman eyed the two security personnel angrily, before staying firmly where she was. "I'm not leaving her. Not until you promise she's getting out."

Hal seemed shocked to see that stubbornness and resistance. And very irritated. He sucked in his cheeks, looking at the ceiling in impatience, "We're going home now. Polly is staying until her condition is fixed."

And with that, the men charged at them. Jughead immediately started throwing punches at the first man, a brawny ginger who obviously wasn't going down with a few hard blows. He instead threw a punch at Jughead's face- leaving him stunned momentarily and allowing the smaller, yet strong, man to jump past him.

Polly let out a shriek as the young blonde was wrenched from her arms, "BETTY- BETTY!" Polly screamed, chasing after the younger woman who kicked and thrashed in the arms of the man.

"Betty!" Jughead growled, kicking the brawny man down to the ground. He jumped at the man holding Betty- but was tugged back by his giant foe. "BETTY!" He yelled, watching as the young blonde thrashed as hard as possible, slapping the man, kicking him, shouting Polly's name again and again in a state of panic.

He was immediately on the floor as his leg was pulled out from underneath him. It all seemed like the theatrics of a nightmare, where the cruelty of a mastermind was stabbing at the heart of every character. He could hear the pain in Betty's voice as her wrist was tugged, he could hear the desperation in the voices of the sisters, he could hear the echoing of it all bouncing off the walls- and he could hear his heaving breaths.

More men charged in, gripping Betty by the arms and tugging her out of the room, before stabilizing Polly. The young woman who was busy shouting for her sister had immediately gone silent. Through all the turmoil, Jug stared at her slump in the arms of a female nurse. Had she fainted? No- he could see a syringe. They'd knocked her out.

And before he could break free, he was lifted by his arms and shoved out of the room and down the halls.

* * *

 _The feeling of falling_  
 _Is still so familiar_  
 _The pain in my stomach_  
 _Is better but baby_  
 _Bright colors have faded_  
 _too early this year_  
 _And strangers look stranger_  
 _Around here_  
-Oren Lavie


	5. Darkness

_**A/N: Sorry it took longer than usual to get this out. I've just been recovering from a bad flu and a crappy experience with my laptop! Always save documents, never trust autosave. This chapter isn't as exciting, but it does lead to important things. Enjoy.**_

* * *

Bursting through a blood red sky  
A slow landslide  
and the world we leave behind  
It's enough to lose your head,  
disappear and not return again...  
When I fall to my feet  
Wearin' my heart on my sleeve  
All I see just don't make sense  
You are the port of my call  
You shot and leavin' me raw  
Now I know you're amazing  
\- MIKA

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Darkness.**

Having experienced his fair share of physical altercations, anyone would think Jughead could prepare himself for each attack, each punch, each kick. But it always stung, always hurt- always ached. He was tough. Hell, being a member of the Serpents meant you had to be. After all, if you were in that gang you were definitely going to have a bust up at some point. And even just being a teenager meant you'd get in a fight at some point. Hell, Jughead had had his fair share of punches thrown and received with Archie!

But as he was dragged down the halls of that terrifying asylum, he felt his face heated and raw with the scrapes, cuts and bruises already flowering on his face. His mind, however, was not with the two men roughly tugging him by the elbows, nor was the pain in his body, it was the bumbling thoughts bouncing around his head. He'd lost the sound of Betty's shouts for Polly long ago, he couldn't see her anymore- he worried. Was she being shoved in her very own room here? Was she being shut in, ignored, told to stay until she was obedient, until she was fixed? Was Hal putting her in the car and driving her off to a boarding school?

He struggled against the strong hands of the brutes above him, growling. Could he run? Could he chase after the car? His thoughts were interrupted when he was unceremoniously dumped in the Lobby.

Linda ignored him, continuing her typing on her little computer as if the words on her screen were more interesting than some bloody vagrant on the ground.

"Should we call the cops?" One of the men, the smaller one, grunted. He seemed pretty vengeful that some teenager had gotten a few punches in. And while anger was simmering below everyone's skin, Jug had to withhold it with every fibre of his being. He was in no mood to face anymore pigs in uniforms. Not today. And, legally, it just meant he'd be in too much hot water. Sheriff Keller could only look away so many times until it was a 'major' crime like assault.

Linda remained silent for a second or so before casting Jug a look, studying his face. "Hmm, no, I don't think he wants anymore trouble. Do you, boy?" Her wrinkled lips twisted into a small, satisfied grin. His mind quickly went to the image of alcohol and a life of crude remarks. Obviously there was some pleasure she took at the sight of his scraped chin and split lip and eyebrow: a serpent, successfully struck? Bullseye. "Let him be on his way. Mr Cooper hasn't given us any reason to call the police anyway." She hummed, looking away.

"He did assault us." The two men argued, obviously wishing to punish him further. It definitely wasn't a desire for 'law and order' but one of arrogant vengeance.

Her eyes studied them. Indeed, the largest one had a nose stained with crimson, the smaller one a bruised cheek. Jughead had to say, he was pleased that in the flurry he'd managed to physically maim them to that extent. But that didn't mean he went unharmed. "And by the looks of it you gave him quite a go, as well." She laughed, "Let him go. It's a cold, bitter day anyhow."

Although they probably did want to see him thrown in the back of a car in cuffs, they backed away with crude, angry growls glued to their faces. Staring at them both, Jug had to smirk. He just had to. It was just too pleasurable not too. he'd have to thank Sweet Pea for his tips on a right hook. "Thanks, gentlemen." Jug sighed, climbing to his feet, knowing that his face was pulsating with pain as well. He probably had no reason to be victorious: his lip felt wet and hot, his face pulsated with pain- but he had some pride in the fact he'd taken two muscly men out.

As he gazed at the aged room, he saw no evidence Betty and Hal were there. Probably gone. Probably on the way home, to yell and scream and punish. He immediately began to wonder if Betty would be alright. Would she be subjected to more bullshit from her bat shit insane father? Would she be fine? Was she hurt? He could imagine she most definitely wasn't okay, but he couldn't imagine how she felt: this minor concern over her sister was now a full blown conspiracy. A pregnant Polly, a regressive set of parents, absolute anarchy between two families and brute, psychological warfare waged on both daughters by parents. He could hardly imagine how fearful Betty felt in her own home, unable to trust her own family, unable to reach out to her own sister.

Storming out, he was unprepared for the chill that stung his bloody lip and raw cheek- but at least the snow wasn't falling, it was only the wind. But at this point, he wasn't worried at all for himself. He just needed to get back to Fred's. He needed to tell Fred he was okay. And he needed to text Betty, to let her know he was there for her. God, if he could he'd bust through the Cooper's front door, smash the entire house up and just take her away and run- run far away, going out of America, going around and around the world until they were just lost faces.

He hopped onto his motorcycle.

* * *

When he came back to Fred's, the sound of the motorcycle had Fred running out in shock. There wasn't any chance you'd catch someone from the North riding such a heavy, large monstrosity. On such a snowy day, as well, the sound cut through the falling snow and light whistle of the wind. "Jug?!" He hollered, looking slightly displeased at the sight.

Running his eyes up and down from the boots to the leather, each lap garnering far more anger, Fred began to fume. "Jughead, what the hell is this?" He motioned to Jug's entire getup, to the motorcycle, to the blood on his lip, to his swelling knuckles- everything. And to be honest, Jug had no idea how to reply. He had no idea how to answer it. Fred was unaware that he was involved in the Serpents, he was unaware that Jug could even ride a motorcycle- he was unaware Jug could even fight.

The young male's stomach turned as he halted on the front yard, freezing and wet from the melted snow. "…Ah-"

"Jug, what… what the heck?" He looked at the young boy, exasperated, "You disappear for an entire night, for an entire day, sending me a text that just said 'I'm fine', and then you rock up hear in this loud… loud _thing_ expecting _everything_ to be okay?" Before Jug could even begin to formulate a reply, Fred grit his teeth. It was something Jug rarely saw, an angry Fred. And it wasn't a welcoming sight. "First of all- where were you?!"

He could tell the truth, "D-Dad took me home. We discussed some things and I just stayed there the entire night and day… Sorry, I didn't know you'd get upset-"

"Jug, I'm upset because you rock up like you're about to throw Riverdale into a state of anarchy! Look at you! Th-This isn't you!" And there it was. The sincere prejudice of Fred. He hated the Serpents. He hated what had happened to FP, he hated the 'rabble'- and it made Jughead's nostrils flare. He threw off his helmet, holding it under his arm firmly.

He wanted to vomit an entire furious diatribe at Fred, he wanted to yell- about how shit his day was, about how he didn't want to be in this situation, how he would rather be in Pop's writing his god damn fucking story- how Fred couldn't judge him, how FRED had _PUSHED JUG AND HIS FAMILY INTO POVERTY!_ But he simply took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Fred." He didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to push him away. "I… I had no way of getting back without this and…" he didn't want to tell the truth. His stomach squirmed at the thought of admitting what he was. "This is dad's-"

"Then why is there blood on you?! Jug… Are you getting into fights?" He paused, eyes widening, "Is FP beating you- is he making you fight- Jug-"

"No- No, God, no, he's not beating me- fuck." Jug snapped hurriedly, climbing off his motorcycle. God he didn't need this. He just wanted to march to Betty's. But something stopped him, a bit of shame, a bit of embarrassment. How could he wonder over there like that? How could he face her with a bloody face and his Serpents regalia? He felt as if he had a target on his body that screamed danger and rebellion. He swallowed. Where could he go? Go back to the trailer? Face FP and tell him he felt shit, alone, scared- stay with Fred, deal with his overbearing attitude? Be alone?

"Then what?"

"I got in a fight! I …" He didn't want to lie- but he couldn't tell the truth. He'd expose Betty's secret, he'd expose himself. "I got jumped."

"By who?"

Fucking details! Jug furrowed his brows, making his way to the front door- Fred followed. Their feet crunched in the snow, in sync with a hurried sense of worry and anger. "Fuck, I don't know. Some guy. He just jumped me, said I was a little shit who needed some guidance. Someone from the south. Not a serpent." He quickly added the last bit, opening the door.

FP sighed, simply shutting the door behind them both. "…Jug…"

With an angry huff, he turned around to face the old man that had given him his home, food and time. "What?" And he didn't mean to sound so angry. But at this point, he wanted to collapse and never wake up ever again. He felt tired, sore and confused.

And then Fred suddenly looked his age- even older. The man who usually had the face of happiness, pride and confidence began to sag in concern and sadness. "I know… I know how you feel about what I did to your dad… and I'm sorry. And I don't want you to think you're a charity case for me… And I don't want you runnin' around, getting hurt. Because you're close to us all: Archie, me, Veronica- Betty- and… I don't need you getting beat up."

All that anger suddenly let loose. He felt the tight feeling of animosity loosening, and before he knew it, he slumped as well. "…I know. And you don't need to worry. I'm fine. And I appreciate everything you've done. It … It means a lot. And …" He trailed off, "Thanks… and sorry."

Fred gave a half smile, "It's all good. Come on. Let's get some dinner."

By the time dinner was over, Jug had confined himself into Archie's sound-proofed garage. There was an old, saggy couch in the corner that he favoured for himself with a TV on a cheap IKEA table connected to an X-Box and bluray player. Perhaps on the entire Andrews land, it was Jug's favourite place to be. The couch itself was in a nice corner, it was isolated, it was quiet, it somehow managed to be warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Perfect to write on, perfect to eat on- perfect to nap on. And after the day he had, and the fact Betty wasn't replying to any of his texts, he needed some time to clear his thoughts.

And surprisingly, it didn't involve writing. He was content to really just lay on that couch and smoke his dad's cigarettes. Archie would probably kill him if he knew he was smoking inside his little gig room. But to be honest, Jughead really didn't give a shit at that moment. He just wanted to think. He just wanted to process what had happened: not even what had happened at that fucking medieval asylum, but _everything._

He was in a shit storm of events. He was stuck in between worlds he hated; the north and the south. While he respected the Serpents and felt a brotherhood that accepted him for all the inner demons he had, for all the rebellion in his heart, for all the flaws and hatred and loneliness that was him, he knew they would never let him go. It was either he stay forever… Or literally disappear. But then, he held a certain longing for the North. For all the pristine bullshit it attempted to carry as a reputation, what he had (which was very little) he held dear. His friends, the memories of his home, the inspiration and even the sheer tragic beauty of it's flawed beauty… He could never let it go. As much as he hated the judgmental bullshit, the eerie ripened values it held so dear, it was the small things he loved.

And he felt as if it were all held together by duct tape. He'd have to hold on… Until semester was over, his dad told him. They'd leave together. They'd run. They'd make a home with Jellybean and his mom. In New York, maybe. He could go to university there. One big happy family built off the skeletons of Riverdale.

And then- fuck… Betty. He took a heavy drag of the stale tobacco, his mind glazing to the image of rosy cheeks and wide, crystalline eyes. If there were any woman he'd spend his life agonizing over, it was her. She was already a pack of dynamite ready to blow him apart, something he'd never imagined.

She was full of pain, full of agony and turmoil and anger and … and… Happiness and excitement and rebellion and… He exhaled, watching the smoke billow against the ceiling, struggling to find an exit. God, what could he do? He'd never felt this way. He'd never felt so frustrated at one human being but felt no hate to match it. But fuck, he couldn't deny it; he was attracted, fuck yeah. But what else? He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to see her face blushing, hear her voice moaning in ecstasy, feel her warm skin against his- but there was something else.

All he could do was lay there, eyes shut, trying to imagine what he wanted. He wanted her. He wanted an apartment in some historic section of New York. He wanted to see fire escapes. He wanted to hear sirens and laughter and trumpets. He wanted to write. He wanted to … To share it all with Betty. He wanted to hug her. Wanted to kiss her. Wanted to make spaghetti with her. He wanted to show her what he wrote, hear her suggestions. He wanted to see her annoyingly inquisitive mind poking light criticism at his crap cleaning. He wanted to share a beer with Archie during exam weeks. He wanted to see them all together, years from now, eating burgers and reminiscing about Pop's. He wanted to see Archie and Veronica dancing at a club while Betty begged for him to join them.

He could imagine it. He could see her there, in her PJs sitting on their bed, smiling with two PB and J sandwiches. He could see her buried in scarves and jackets as they wondered through Central park. He could see her in tears when her favourite character died. He could see her comforting him when his favourite TV character died. He could see her coming out of the shower, dancing in her towel, dragging him into a soiree of laughter and hugs and kisses and – and…

God. He fucking liked her. He wanted her.

And what could he do?

He checked his phone. There were a few texts from Kevin and Veronica as they shared some details about some Broadway show her and Archie had watched together- but that was it. There wasn't even a text from his dad.

And definitely not one from Betty.

She was probably grounded. Her phone taken off her. Locked in her room like some forlorn princess. Or maybe she was angry at him. He should have fought harder.

He took another drag.

He should have punched harder. He should have shoved them harder. He should have punched Hal Cooper square in the face. He should have hurried Polly out of there. All those regrets felt like vomit climbing and clawing at his insides, ready to jump through his mouth in the form of an angry wail, all he could do was throw an arm over his eyes in frustration. He kept it there, pressing it hard until all he could see were stars and feel was pain. He should have done much more. He should call the Serpents on that fucker. Should get them to break his knee caps if he touched Betty.

…But that would solve nothing. Betty would realize who he was. That painful realization had him flopping into another position, where he flicked his cigarette ashes into a coffee mug, removing his arm from his eyes and letting his hand squeeze at his gut in anger. That he was indeed a Serpent. And fuck if he'd let that happen. He would never let her know the truth. For all the acceptance she was, he knew that his tattoo would seer disgust into her.

Before he knew it, the cigarette burnt out, scalding his fingers. He dropped it to the ground and groaned. Twelve am. He couldn't dream of sleeping. He rolled on to his side and searched the room lazily. Not much held any desire to him. There was his laptop thrown haphazardly on one of the bean bags, the TV, a few tools and Archie's guitar- no books or music he could just pop on. And he was too lazy to get his playlist out. And he was too lazy to move. His eyes found the TV's remote on the floor, just a few centimetres from him. He'd do anything to be distracted. At least just a little.

As he clicked it on, he fell into a daze as the TV shows flew by. He saw friends making out and adults crying, drama and comedy and action and all this bullshit- but none of it could stick to him. He found his mind drifting to questions and formulas of ifs and whens and whys. Could he have done anything different. Could he have tried anything more? He didn't know.

It frustrated him.

An hour or two had passed and there was no relief to the circulation of regrets and despair. His mind was a race track, fears, dislikes, wishes and hopes racing around and around in a loop where there was no winner, no answer. What interrupted him was the door opening, the squealing of the door hinge, "Sorry, Fred." Jug mumbled, unable to look away from the TV, "Do you want me to turn it off?"

There was a small silence, and Jug was expecting an exasperated growl. The room smelt of smoke and the TV was definitely waning on the electricity bill. But Jug couldn't muster up any care.

"I don't mind."

He sat up, startled. "Betty?"

There she stood. She was in her PJ's, little shorts, socks and a small shirt. It hardly seemed appropriate in the cold of the winter night, but she was flushed, as if she'd raced from one warm home to another. Her hair was out, her eyes wide, her lips twisted in a sheepish smile. "Yeah… Hi." Before Jug could even say something, even react- she began to speak, "I'm… I'm sorry for doing this… But I just had to get out of there. I've been grounded for a few hours now and I feel like… I feel like I'm going insane in there. No phone. No laptop. No TV. Just sitting in my room reading and reading- I'm not even allowed out in the backyard! It's… a nightmare." She shut the door behind her, stepping closer to the couch, "And- so I had to leave the only time I could, which is when they're asleep. And I couldn't text you so I thought, well, shit- how do I get to Archie's room? But then I heard the TV…" And very gingerly, she sat right beside Jug.

Her body was against his, yet she continued to talk and apologise as if they were miles apart. Jug just sat there, mouth open slightly, unable to speak. She was here? Out of all places, she wanted to find him? He swallowed. And then he swallowed again, a bit harder, as one of her hands rested unconsciously on his leg, fingers brushing his inner thigh. "I hope … You're not mad?"

"Wh-Why," His voice cracked, he coughed, awkwardly, "Why would I be mad?"

"Because I've just jumped in here, unannounced, without even warning you?"

"I mean- you're without a phone and… I was worried about you." He admitted. She looked at him, smiling. "I mean… You were… _dragged_ out after seeing your sister locked up." He let out a breath, the full realization of how absurd the situation was striking him yet again. "Are you alright?"

It was a question that seemed stupid and had an obvious question. Yet she simply gazed at him, hand planted safely on his thigh, smiling softly, "I can't say I'm good. It's like … I've known my parents have been controlling… But to see them lock her up? Because she's pregnant? If they'd waited a few weeks, she'd have graduated and … But they just sent her away. And to get the Blossom's involved in sending him away… I'm relieved, though, to know that she … Didn't attempt to kill herself. I mean, not in a bad way- I'm relieved because it means she's okay." She pursed her lips, "I can't say it the way I mean it. All these weeks, months, I thought I was going crazy and that I was going to lose her and… Now I know she's there, and I can get her out." A glint of happiness reached her eyes, "And that I can see her happy." Jug could understand it, a soft smile touching his sharp features.

Very quietly, he took a drag from his cigarette, breathing out. The room was thick with smoke, yet she was clear. "I know it's going to sound crazy, and maybe it is- maybe I am really a crazy Cooper- but… I'm glad today happened. I finally know what happened. I finally know about Polly and I know where to go from here and…" She trailed off, suddenly breathless with an overjoyed grin, "I know you're there for me. I mean… Look at you… You took a beating to protect Polly and I." And there it was, her caring voice… He'd heard it so many times when Veronica complained at the lunch table and when Archie was stressing about Football and exams- and he'd heard it when Ethel was crying in the hallway… He swallowed, taking another drag.

"But things are going to get difficult." He added hopelessly.

She was silent, affirming it with a thoughtful look, "But who better to help me than you?" He swallowed, his apple jumping up and down. "If … You're up to it."

"Are you kidding?" he laughed awkwardly, though he would march through an army of Hal's and Alice's if he had to. "And let Betty Cooper experience it together? What's Nancy Drew without her sidekick?"

She laughed. "Well, Nancy Drew was never as lucky as me." It went silent. The two of them sat there, gazing at the TV. Betty breathed in the smoke, Jughead wallowed and swam through the onslaught of feelings and thoughts. Lucky to be with him… He'd never been much for wanting to help anyone, to be that buried and committed in something that wasn't the Serpent's or his novels. And Betty wanted him there. He bit the inside of his mouth, hard enough to draw a copper taste to prevent a stupid grin on his face.

"…What does this mean, then?" he muttered. She turned to face him, unsure of what he meant. "Well-" he hurriedly added, "You've lost your phone and laptop- and I'm guessing any rights to leave the house… How do we… Continue?"

A mischievous look lit her eyes up, like the sparkling reflection of the sun on a warm, tropical ocean. "Well, what kind of Cooper would I be if I let them end it? Dad is convinced I need to stand down, that Polly is sick and needs help- that she's unable to be released until she gives birth and the baby is given away. Mom … Well, I'm shocked. She looked hurt and angry at dad but she just folded over. She told me being confined home would be good for me, would make me realize you were dangerous, that breaking their rules would compromise my future and my happiness and my chance at success…" She trailed off, anger lacing a seething pattern in her voice, "I don't care. I'm going to sneak out when I can."

"Where to?"

"Well… To you…?" She muttered, unsure. Jug's heart gave a few heavy thuds, as if to wail _SHE LIKES YOU SHE LIKES YOU_ , yet the counter thoughts of his brain screamed _If anyone else was here- like Archie- she'd see them as well._ "if you want. I just… If I stay there, nothing can be done and I'll go crazy!" She laughed it off, but there was real fear in each word. Her eyes still sparkled, yet like Morse code he could see 'help help help' laying below the aqua depths.

"Yeah, of course. Anytime. Come here. We can chill and chat and…" He sounded far too eager. Coughing, he muttered, "You know, anything to help."

She smiled. "Thanks."

And stupidly, he had to continue talking. His mind was releasing a diarrhea of self deprecation. Surely, yes, they definitely were friends now, but if the gang were here… "But I mean… After everything that's happened, without Archie or Kevin or Veronica there- I can only imagine things are… Shit."

She sweetly smiled, her 'Humble Betty' voice catching, "Jug… I know they're gone… But I've got you. And I'm happy I've got you. You've… Really been someone I can rely on. A really amazing friend. Someone I can just… break down on."

He didn't know what to say. And she was too close. He felt his heart jumping out of his chest. He felt as if he needed to do something, as if he should- but he couldn't. He reached by his feet for another cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. God. God, what should he do? He felt guilty: he'd been told to be there for Betty. And he felt happy: she thought of him as a good friend. And he felt so flustered: her fingers kept running along his thigh, back and forth in a captivating motion.

He took a drag, turning to face her- Suddenly, he felt a cool finger slide across his split lip. He hadn't seen her getting closer, a languid, soft look extinguishing the anger or happiness she'd worn so comfortably. He felt captivated by her pink lips, by her long lashes, by her blonde locks splayed over her bare shoulders. He breathed in slowly at the touch, where a sting ran through his body. "Look at this…" She whispered, "And this-" her smooth finger ran across to the discoloured spot on his cheek to the scrape on his chin. "…Thank you."

"I wanted to be there. To help." He managed to mutter. His stomach twisted. It was doing summersaults. His heart was attempting to do some form of gymnastics, but it was just spasming wildly in nervousness and excitement. When he realized he was holding his breath, he turned away to exhale the cloud of smoke.

God. He wanted to kiss her lips. He wanted to feel her again. He wanted her hands to travel around his body.

He wanted her to make him feel better- wanted to make her feel better- he wanted to disappear with her. He swallowed, before turning to face her. Her eyes were steady, but her gaze seemed hazy. "What is it?" He muttered.

Slowly, with the utmost care, she gently stroked his split lip, "It looks sore…" it were as if her touch had frozen him, had prevented any movement or sound to emit from his frozen body. The only thing allowed to move was his heart and gut, which churned and jumped and entangled itself in some mess of guts and muscle. They were like mannequins, frozen, eyes gazing into each others, lips parted, breath catching, as if waiting for a key to waken up any sort of action. As much as he wanted to give that invitation, to push for what was awkwardly suggesting itself between them, he was unable to.

Seeing her after a day of silence proved to him how much he wanted and enjoyed her… How wouldn't want to risk destroying that. He couldn't take a kiss, couldn't do anything that he wasn't sure she wanted and wreck it all. If he were to do it… Their lips would meld, like tulip petals brushing against each other, their hearts beating hard and their fingers itching to clutch at each other. Yet if he were to do it, and she didn't want it, it would be as if a jackhammer was crashing between what they were so far and what he wanted.

As if a glass shard was stabbed in his gut, twisting and twisting, he was forced to look down. Audibly, she swallowed. "…Ah…" She began, "I hope it doesn't hurt."

"No, no," Jug waved it off lamely, "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt. I just…" He wasn't game to look back at her face. Would she have a nonchalant look of content, as if the concept of kissing or not meant little, or would she look hurt? Would she look concerned about Polly or her family or herself? Either way, the answer would make him squirm. "Are you okay? You say you are and … Honestly, are you okay?"

"Me?" She numbly murmured, "Yeah. I mean, like I said, I'm glad today happened. But-" She stopped herself, slumping suddenly as if bricks of tire and frustration fell onto her, "Arghhh! I'm stuck. I know what's wrong. Polly is pregnant, she's stuck in that place, Jason is gone, mom and dad are… insane… But how do I fix it?" Her hand fell back on his thigh, as if it were a safety precaution, like a child gripping a teddy bear or a safety blanket. Perhaps it was presumptuous to see it as such, but Jug wouldn't move that hand away. Never, ever. "…What do I do?" She turned to him, gorgeous orbs of cerulean glimmering with fear, despair, hope and safety.

How quickly had she grown to trust him? Yet, who could blame her- she had no one, she had to rely on someone through such a horrible time. His heart flew into his throat, forcing him to cough a bit, "Well… It's Jason's child." His voice was low and gravelly, each word planned. If she wanted help, fuck, he'd pour everything into it. "He's gone. And I'd bet he didn't want to leave…?"

"She's convinced he loves her. If you were in love, you'd never leave… Especially if they were pregnant?" Her voice curled into a question, suddenly sucking on her lower, pink lip. Jug's own bottom lip was being chewed by his teeth, thoughtfully. Would he have gladly run at the news of a child? "…He would have known. He would have loved her and the baby- the Blossom's are rich, so it wouldn't have been a huge issue." The narration so far made sense to him, he nodded silently. "So…I'm saying he wanted to stay. I'm also saying he was forced to leave."

"Then we need to find him." Jug simply muttered, "He's being forced to repeat another year at high school in some weird boarding school. Would he know what's going on?" She shrugged, lost. Would Jason know if she was locked up? Surely he could have run- run away- and found her and … It obviously went deeper, he concluded.

Betty clicked her teeth, standing up and pacing the room, "I think … Before anymore questions are asked, we need to find him. Because… We're just…" She struggled for words. Jug's light eyes stalked her each and every movement, unable to pull away. How could Archie have rejected her? Why couldn't he be good enough for her? Why weren't things easier? And why was she subjected to handling this morbid mission of saving her sister? She was brave and strong… She wasn't some petty, wimp. She wasn't some pastel doll. "Confusing ourselves."

"I think we should start with the first question. Where is he?" She hummed. Her foot tapped on the ground in an off pattern, sucking in one cheek, then the other, thinking hard. "Who would even know?" She questioned, a thought spoken out loud. She expected no reply from the heavy in thought Jug. Both were two statues, a blonde minx standing curiously, face framed with curiosity, a raven gazing at her.

It couldn't even be denied. But it felt hesitant to admit it, even to himself. He'd never really felt like this… And it was daunting. He really _did_ like her.

"Hmm…" She'd twirled in a circle, twisting to face him with a small, devious smile. The Betty smile that sang ' _I've got a plan'_. "Hey…"

Jughead leant back on the seat, eyes planted on her, unable to look away. "An idea?"

"Well…" She grinned, "You're going to think it's bad. But hear me out." Her sunny smile embellished his thoughts. _Gorgeous._ "Jason is gone. No one knows where he's gone. I've seen Reggie and Charles and the football team try and contact him and beg Cheryl for information on him but she refuses. No one knows."

"But?"

"But Cheryl would. She definitely would." Betty replied, confident. Immediately, a sour taste found it's way on Jug's tongue at the thought of the red headed viper. She knew too much about anyone, had too many cruel ways, was unable to reveal the least bit of sympathy or empathy- the very thought of her had his entire body enflamed. "If she were split from him, with no form of communication- we'd know. She'd be a complete mess. She's always been so dependant on him… They must have some communication. Sure, she's mad and angry- but not… a mess." She trailed off when Jug slowly nodded in agreement, "I've been invited by Cheryl to one of her Christmas parties," she trailed off when Jug's face contorted into a snort. "What?"

"You do remember what I remember, right? That she drugged you? It was last night? She literally hates you? She probably wants to do it again." The words jumped out. Remembering the sheer depravity in Cheryl's smirk, the anger he felt, the absolute fear in thinking Betty was in trouble, it forced everything out. "That's probably why she's inviting you so quickly?"

Betty ignored it, continuing in an attempt to win him over. Yet with each word she spoke, all he could think of was her body slumped over, slurring, in the cold, his fists stinging, Jake moaning below him. It made him squirm with anger. The anger he felt made his fists ball together, to shake. If he had his way, he'd have called the Serpents to bust his knees. If anything were to hurt her… God, it brought out the violent darkness in Jughead, the darkness that suited him as a novelist, as a Serpent… "If we were to go… Poke around… We could find something." He took in an impatient breath, she threw him a stubborn face.

Jug firmly pursed his lips, "Betty, fuck- you do know she literally hates you. Whether it's because she hates anyone who isn't under her thumb, or," Jughead remembered what Josie said at the party ' _a little revenge'_ , "She seriously blames you and your family for Jason leaving, she despises you. She wouldn't talk. Not to you, or me."

"She hates a lot of people."

"And she's dangerous?" Before she could even roll her eyes, Jug added, "She tried to get you drugged and ra-"

Pursing her lips momentarily, "This isn't about me or her and my friendship. I don't like her. I'm not going to let my feelings get in the way of solving this." As much as he wanted to argue with her he knew it was futile. She'd proven herself to be determined and strong and unwilling to shift. Silence fell between them, awkward as the two battled with their own thoughts. It were as if there was an expectant air between them, for someone to do something. But any attempt to tell her something, anything, was strongly locked in his mouth. "…" She licked her lips, obviously feeling the pregnant silence between them.

"Ah-" Jug hurriedly hummed, "Well, you're not going alone."

A rosy sheen found her cheeks, her lips struggling to conceal a widening grin, "I wouldn't see it go any other way."

* * *

They'd settled with going to Cheryl's party. It was planned a week from now, an obvious attempt to stir some drama in Riverdale's Christmas spirit. Whether she was objectively attempting to get Betty in a lot of shit or she honestly just wanted to party, Jug and Betty wouldn't know for a while. But after that, Betty couldn't stay any longer without risking her parents coming in to see her room vacant.

With that, Jug had fallen fast asleep on the couch. He wouldn't pretend, it was not a restful sleep. As soon as he'd been lifted into a world of dreams, he'd been greeted with that horrid building. The looming brick monstrosity had stood above him, casting a dark shadow upon his body. His leather jacket, which always seemed to be his second skin, his armour, felt inconsequential. And yet, as his legs carried him up the stairs and into the lobby, through the winding halls, all he could hear were hissing snakes and screams. All he could see were bloody streaks on the wall- all he could feel was an unsettling itch in his gut that told him everything about it wasn't right. As his dream led him to a door- Polly's door- he was forced to open it. It clicked. It opened with a long, drawn out squeal from rusting joints, and in that room sat Betty. She stood there, smiling out the window, dressed in that horrid uniform Polly wore, and calmly explained how she hated the Serpents, how she loved Archie- how she wanted nothing to do with Jug.

And that was the last straw- Jug woke up in Archie's room, panting, sweating and in a bad mood overall. It was only ten in the morning, and he felt his limited sleep bearing on his body. Why would he dream like that? It essentially enlightened each and every negative little fear, every insecurity, that buzzed in his mind. Sure, it was a dream- a creation in his brain, but it did very little for him. It were as if age had claimed his youth, his joints crumbling with tire, his muscles cramped, his head sluggish. The concept of climbing out of Archie's warm bed and into the cold had him growling. Yet the one thing that got him out was the vibration of his phone.

 ** _Dude, u up?_**

It was Sweet Pea. With a huff, Jug rubbed his eyes, glaring at the message. What now? He'd rather be fast asleep for the next century, he didn't want to see any Serpents or any form of life. After that dream? He wanted to forget he existed. Just for a few more hours. Yet, remembering the words of his dad, he didn't want to fuck himself over concerning the Serpents. And, being with them always did distract him froma crappy mood.

 ** _Yeah, whats up?_**

As he waited, he sat up, scratching his head and stretching. A trickle of energy seeped into his muscles. _Vrr…Vrrr…Vrr.._

 ** _The gang is scoping through Southside. Some trouble is happening, we need you. Meet at Whyte Wyrm?_**

Probably a deal gone wrong. Someone owed them money, maybe. Or maybe it was them wanting to rough some goonies up? It wasn't like he could just go around and see Betty and forget about life, she was trapped in her little prison. "Ugh."

 ** _I'll be there in thirty. Cya._**

 _Vrr…Vrr…Vrrr…_

 ** _C u soon._**

He hadn't taken a shower in awhile, he felt like an absolute pile of shit served on an even crappier plate. His body hurt, from tire and from beating the crap out of three men- and having the snot beaten out of him. His knuckles were splotched with purple and green, with red cuts and sore welts. And as he made his way to the bathroom, smiling at an emerging and tired Fred, he saw in his reflection that he looked tired. Heavy, dark rings fell below his eyes and his hair looked as if a tornado had thrown each strand to point to the sky.

A quick shower never hurt anyone, he told himself, and couldn't find it more agreeable. The water washed all scent of tobacco, blood and tire. He stood beneath the showerhead staring at the tiled walls, thinking of the day ahead. Serpent stuff, then Betty. Out of the two, or the endless options of writing or running away- he knew he'd choose a certain Cooper over anyone.

Yet it was time to prepare for a day of illegalities. Where he'd dive into violence and drugs and darkness- where he'd let his fists run free, do what he had to do. And it was easy. Every human being had some sort of darkness within them, whether it was the dirtiest of capitalists or the purest of men who wanted to see the world change- darkness was within everyone, capable of spurting up in their minds. And Jughead was not an oddity on this, he had acted upon this darkness many times Whether it was a need to find a group to feel similar to, whether it was a need to protect them or to even just advance the Serpents- his family- he would embrace it.

As he washed his hair and face, he dried himself and clothed himself in his jeans, combat boots, singlet and leather jacket. "Where you off to?" He jumped slightly as Fred emerged, peeking his head through Archie's door, his eyes gazing with disapproval at the leather jacket.

"Going off to see some friends." He muttered, unable to look Fred in the eye, "Just a ride through the forest."

"Right." Not convinced, Fred added, "…Just be careful on this _ride._ "

* * *

As Jughead pulled to the Whyte Wyrm, he saw Sweet Pea and the rest of their gang standing by their own bikes. All looking as if they belonged on some cover for a heavy metal punk band album, they simply stood there, smoking or smirking or chatting, scuffing their boots in the dirty concrete jungle that was the carpark. "'Ey, Jug." Called Toni, grinning as she caught sight of their long missed friend. As he climbed off, he hurried towards them, stomach heavy.

He belonged to them, yes, he did. The Serpents had proven themselves to be family in more ways than one, yet after his banishment and realizing they had no issue with kicking him out and subsequently beating him up it dashed away the comfy trust he'd built around it all. Sweet Pea flashed him a nod, as did Joaquin and three others: Jasper, Rocco and Blair.

"What's up?"

Joaquin blew a stream of smoke into the air, "Found two Northers causing shit down the main drag." The main drag was the long strip of road deep in the Southside. It was the home to small grocery markets, pharmacies and auto-parts. Impoverished in comparison to the North, yet a safe haven for anyone who struggled to pay the bills: cheap yet reliable. Furrowing his brows, Jug struggled to think of why a Norther would go up there. Sure, some would come down for a drug fix, maybe they wanted to visit the strip clubs, find someone to fuck, or, least likely scenario, they had friends. Joaquin explained, "Blair," the woman perked at the mention of her name, "Saw them bullying a few kids. Our kin. Saw them threatening them."

"Why would they threaten a bunch of kids?"

Blair shrugged, "We're not sure. All I know is that one of 'em shoved Pepper's boy." Pepper was a dancer at the bar, a sweet woman with a tough streak. Single, nice and made a damn good Rusty Nail. It was simple among every serpent, including Jug, touch one- touch all. "We've seen him around before, thought he was just there for a fix, but this is the first time I'd seen his friend. Scummy Northers."

Sweet Pea crossed his arms, leaning back against his bike, "Thought it was time to show them what happens when you cross us."

"We think they should be there still. Rocco's brother is there, watching them. He's gonna tell us if they leave, but they're still there. Don't know what they're doing there for so long."

All Jug could think was that these asses were a bunch of rich fuckers, maybe backward men, seeing an opportunity to spice up their lives. Either way, they'd learn a lesson. God, he hadn't been South for a job in a long time. And while he wasn't eager to beat them up, it felt comfortable- and he had a lot of anger to let out. "Let's go then."

"To the main drag… We'll park outside Pat's auto shop." Joaquin decided, flicking the stub on the ground, "Maybe you can get that hunk of junk fixed, Toni." He motioned a nod to her bike, which indeed needed a new paint job. Being near them certainly felt normal, as if he hadn't left, but he could tell he'd missed a lot. Toni shoved him playfully.

"Aw, shut up."

As each of them climbed or walked to their bikes, Jug felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hm?" Toni stared up at him, lips set in a firm line, "What's up?"

"We missed you, Jug." She simply said, but without sounding any bit emotional. It was the simple, frank Toni. "…I'm sorry about that meeting. None of us here wanted you gone. It's just… People like Tall boy? They're paranoid. Worried that when someone like you disappears, to the North of all places, that you're compromising us all."

Jug solemnly nodded, "I'd never rat on us. Or leave." God that last bit felt a bit bitter in his mouth. But being beside them, he felt torn at the thought of leaving it all. Toni gave her typical half smile, slapping him on the shoulder with a wink. "Try and keep up." He called as she walked away.

"Keep talking like that, Jug," She laughed from her bike, revving the engine, "See where it gets you!"

The South felt cold. While the snow had melted away, the clouds still hung low and painted buildings in a dank sheen of cold, angry grey. And the cold had definitely remained, nipping at bare flesh and forcing many to retreat under scarves and jumpers. As the revving engines came to a stop, Jughead felt more into the pattern of being an active member than he'd felt in a long time, climbing off and walking down the pavement with the entire gang at his side.

"How will we know it's them?" Jasper asked, still incredibly naïve and unsure. He was some runt with dark blue hair and eyes to match, lost and alone with a shitty family life. He'd been around the Serpents for awhile before deciding to join, and having known Toni the longest through school, he'd stuck to them like glue.

"They're northers." Blair snorted, "We'll catch them a mile away."

"It looks empty." Rocco flatly declared. Texting furiously at his phone, the gang continued to scour the street. All they could see were men and women dressed in their respective leather or cheap jumpers running from store to store. "Darby," His brother, "says they haven't left, just entered the pharmacy."

The pharmacy itself was a joke if you were to enter any other in the North, or for better word, a wealthier area. It had a small amount of painkillers and bandaids, general first aid, yet was underfunded. Marching in, Jug saw them immediately. And Jasper could recognise them as well, emitting a small, "Oh."

Fuck. Standing there was Reggie and Jake- the same Jake he'd pounced two days ago- standing by the counter. "Oi!" Sweet Pea called, a look of disgust on his face.

 _NO No no no no fuck no_. They'd recognise him. He'd never thought he'd feel such shame. The rumours circulating him hadn't hurt him, they'd made him feel proud. Yes, fuck, he was a Serpent. But now? It was confirmed and… Betty would hear. Cheryl would hear, she would make sure everyone found out. Including Betty. Fuck. Images of terrified and disgusted cerulean eyes popped into his eyes.

But at the same time, anger flashed. It was Jake. Jake, that disgusting fucker.

 _I've always wanted to see a Cooper girl naked._

Reggie and Jake turned, unimpressed, before bursting into laughter, " _JUGHEAD JONES?!"_ Reggie howled, "I knew it! Southside scum!"

"Who's the scum?" Toni asked, "The one shoving kids around? I don't think that's us."

"Honey," Jake smirked, "Your mouth shouldn't be open like that. Keep it shut. Or…" He shared a look with Reggie, "Keep it occupied with something here." He ungraciously pointed at his crotch. Joaquin growled.

Prick. He deserved another black eye. Jug's fists were clenched so tight he felt as if he'd break the skin of his palms, "Nice face, fucker." He called out, "Whoever fucked you up did a grand old job." Jake probably didn't know, or maybe he did, either way he flinched and snarled.

"I know you did this, Jones!" Pointing at the bruising on his face and his swollen left eye, he snarled, "I know you were the pathetic fucker who wanted to be a fucking hero."

"If I recall, you were trying to rape her."

"It wasn't rape- God, I bet she called rape." He laughed bitterly.

The woman behind the counter who had been frozen still, slowly backed away. In fact, the entire store cleared of customers as if violence were a natural aspect of their lives. Simply, leave. "Cut the crap, I'm done with your sexist mouth." Blair growled, "We're here to tell you to fuck off outta here. Northers aren't welcome here."

"Hang on, I came here for some drugs." Reggie argued, seething, "And I'm not leaving til I get some."

"You're officially cut off." Joaquin sneered. In an instant, they clashed. Serpents ran at Bulldogs, gripping their blue and gold varsity jackets and tugging them into the streets. The two collapsed in a heap, before climbing back up.

Jug was unable to even pause for a second. Jake was his. He would make him suffer. Blair was already tugging at his hair, launching her fist into his face. Yet he kicked- throwing his foot into the tough gut of the monster beneath him, wishing in all honesty to feel those ribs crack, to feel his stomach rupture, to see him cry for mercy.

But it was a typical beat up. A reminder to the North that the South was not to be fucked with. Ruthless, yes, maybe unfair to set seven on two, but that's how it was. And, to be fair, four of them did step back to watch it. Didn't want to be too unfair. Blair fell back as Jake shook her off, catching Jug's foot with a tough hand, pushing him back onto his ass- yet he launched himself on the football player, nose flaring.

Jake was unable to defend himself, howling as he threw his hand up weakly in defence to feel his thumb tugged out of place- "AHHH, FUCK!"

"Jug-"

He launched another punch.

"JUG!"

God, fuck, he was mad. For Betty. For himself. For the kids. For everything in his life and everything around him and fuck he just wanted someone to pay- He felt arms tug him off, where he surrendered to the hold of Sweet Pea. Panting, his eyes focused on the moaning pile that was Jake. "Fuck." Sweet Pea hummed, pleased, "Never fuck with the South." He called out, victorious as Reggie pulled Jake up, dragging him away.

Jug remained panting until they'd retreated into a shiny Jeep, locking the doors. There was a whistle, where Toni stared at his heaving body, "Nice. You got mad."

Climbing to his feet, "Well, it got personal. Hate that fucker." Staring at his knuckles, he saw the splatter of red and the familiar sting. A daily occurrence lately, he thought grudgingly.

"And they call us savages," Toni muttered, "They're absolute psychopaths."

"Hey," Darby emerged from the side street, smirking widely, "Told Tall Boy 'bout them. He's laughin' his ass off, wanted to say good job to you." Rocco slapped his arm and nodded, he and the gang launching into a re-enactment of what had happened, laughing as Joaquin imitated Jake's moans. Yet Jug stood behind, absently checking his phone. If anything, he felt a nudge in his mind wishing to see if Betty was fine. But, recognising that no texts came from her, just Archie and Kevin, he put it away.

"Hey." Toni slid up to him, leaning against the Pharmacy wall. She slipped a cigarette between her pouty lips, holding one up. Her eyebrows rose, a look of slight regret striking her, "I didn't think you'd take it. I thought you barely smoked. What did you call it?" She smiled, lighting hers, "Hmm... A social smoker?"

Jug shrugged, lighting it, "Things are getting a bit heavy. It's a good habit." Toni laughed. He stared at it, grateful it wasn't old or stale and wasn't cheap. He breathed it in then let it out, staring at his feet. It felt weird being there. Not being with Betty. Especially after beating Jake up, again, FOR Betty. He turned to face Toni who was staring at him thoughtfully.

Very quietly, "So... That scum bucket... Attacked a friend?"

"Yeah." He admitted softly.

"A... Girlfriend?"

His eyes widened, a pang in his chest. "No- No, she's not my girlfriend. Just a friend."

She smirked, "Juggy, I know you in and out at this point. I've, uh," She gave him a smirk, gazing at his lips before flashing a momentary glance at his crotch, "experienced enough with you to know what ticks you off. Juggy has a crush."

"Toni, no." He mumbled. It's not like he was embarrassed. Perhaps a little. But he didn't want anyone knowing about Betty. No way would he drag her down to Southside drama. "It's..."

"Relax, boy." She cooed jokingly, holding the burning stub by her lips, breathing in, "If you're going to be as emotionally constipated as you usually are," he winced, "It's none of my business. Just know, I'm eager to see the doll who can get you so riled up."

The gang decided to move and head back to the Wyrm for a drink and some time to chill. With a whistle, Toni and Jug were strolling with the pack back to the auto-shop. Jug felt a clap on his back. Joaquin curled a hand over his bicep, grinning, "Nice to have you back, Jug."

He shouldn't have been so glad. Shouldn't have felt so welcome. Shouldn't have felt so comfortable in that leather. But he did. "Good to be back."

* * *

Sometimes it feels like I've got a war in my mind  
I want to get off but I keep riding the ride  
I never really noticed that I had to decide  
To play someone's game or live my own life  
And now I do  
I want to move  
Out of the black (out of the black)  
Into the blue (into the blue)  
\- Lana Del Rey


End file.
